


Achieving Escape Velocity

by lillupon



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Kim Mingyu, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Jeon Wonwoo, Eventual Smut, Forbidden Love, Internal Conflict, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Jeon Wonwoo, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Secret Relationship, Student Kim Mingyu, Teacher Jeon Wonwoo, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Kim Mingyu, Unsafe Sex, Wonwoo is 23/Mingyu is 17
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28951476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillupon/pseuds/lillupon
Summary: Jeon Wonwoo is the new, fresh-faced physics teacher at Pointe Pledis Academy, a private school for the rich and the elite. He also happens to be an omega—a rarity, as most males present alpha or beta. Not that anyone will ever find out. As far as anyone knows, he is a beta.He expects his first year of teaching to consist of hours of lesson planning, never-ending piles of assignments to mark, and attitude from entitled students and parents alike. What he does not expect is Kim Mingyu: alpha, irresistable, and seventeen. Wonwoo finds himself drawn into Mingyu's orbit and unable to break free of the alpha's charms. There's a joke about escape velocity somewhere here, but Wonwoo is too busy sneaking around with his student to formulate one.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 388
Kudos: 576





	1. September: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It goes without saying that I don't condone relationships between teachers and high school students in real life. However, this is fanfiction, and fiction is fantasy. And this time, my fantasy is a seventeen year old Mingyu rawing his hot, older teacher. If the thought of a high school student entering a sexual relationship with a teacher bothers you, I suggest you hit the close button on this fic. Otherwise, enjoy!

They say when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back. 

In Wonwoo’s case, he stared at his class, and thirty pairs of eyes bored back into him. It wasn’t quite like looking into an abyss, but it sure as hell felt close to it. His stomach swooped, as though he were looking down from a great height. He licked his lips. Found them cracked and dry. 

First impressions were everything, especially to a class of senior students where the vast majority had presented, save for a few late-bloomers. 

Betas and omegas were, by far, Wonwoo’s favourite to teach. Within each secondary gender, people had their own personality traits and idiosyncrasies, but for the most part, betas were more agreeable and cooperative, and omegas were more obedient. More forgiving of a new teacher.

Alphas, on the other hand, were circling piranhas. The first hint of blood, the first hint that Wonwoo was a fumbling and nervous wreck who didn’t know what he was doing, and they would tear him apart. It was in their nature to dominate, and they had few qualms about butting heads with their teachers.

Especially if their teacher was an omega.

Which Wonwoo was.

And a male one, at that. A rarity. 

Wonwoo blew out a breath. He had been standing in front of the class for what felt like an hour, unable to say a word. The kids grew restless in their seats. Fabric rustled as school uniforms were adjusted. Pencils tapped. Papers rustled and binders snapped open and closed. A few students eyed the door, perhaps calculating how much trouble they would get in if they walked out of class.

If he didn’t talk now, he would lose them.

Wonwoo opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Good morning, everyone. My name is Wonwoo—I mean,” he stammered. “Mr. Jeon. My name is Wonwoo, but of course, you won’t be calling me that. You’ll be calling me Mr. Jeon.”

At the back of the class, someone snickered.

Wonwoo felt himself flush. At least they couldn’t smell the fear and embarrassment on him. As far as they knew, he was a beta. He took three pills twice a day—a scent blocker, and two inhibitors that suppressed heats and slick production—as well as a birth control, and he had been taking them since he was eighteen. He had never missed a day. 

As an additional measure, he used a scent blocking lotion, which he dutifully slathered on after his morning shower. He carried a scent diffusing spray in his bag, in an unmarked bottle. He was careful, as all omegas had to be, when they were pretending to be someone they were not.

But today, of all days, he could not seem to remember if he had taken his pills with breakfast. He had been in a rush this morning: first sleeping through his alarm, and then unable to find his phone. From the fridge, he had grabbed three cold pieces of leftover kimbap and stuffed them into his mouth. 

But what about his pills? Were they still sitting in the pillbox atop his kitchen counter?

As if in answer to that question, warmth flared at the base of Wonwoo’s tailbone. Liquid heat pooled between his loins, crawling up his spine and radiating outwards. Sweat broke out beneath his collar and his underarms. Heat. He had missed one day of suppressants, and now he was going into fucking heat. 

Wonwoo pressed his thighs together. Reigned in his pheromones, but the damage had been done.

Whispers broke out through the class. Two girls in the front row put their heads together. “Do you smell that?” one of them asked. 

“Yeah, I think… I think Mr. Jeon is going into heat,” the other said, turning wide and astonished eyes on Wonwoo. 

Two knocks sounded at the door. 

It was his mother. She clutched his pillbox in her fist. The pills inside rattled as she invaded his classroom. 

Wonwoo crossed the classroom to meet her. “Mom, you can’t just come in here while I’m teaching.” Or trying to, at least. He gripped her arms, attempting to herd her out the door.

“You forgot to take your pills this morning,” his mother said, shoving the pillbox into his chest. “How do you plan on looking after two hundred kids when you can’t even take care of yourself? You’re 23 now, and you still need me to remind you to eat three meals a day.”

The single snicker at the back of the classroom turned into laughter; other students began to join in.

Wonwoo’s face burned. “Mom, please—” 

“People are trusting you with their children. You need to be an adult. And if you can’t do that, then the least you can do is tie your tie properly.”

“What?”

  
  
  


Wonwoo’s eyes snapped open, a sharp inhale filling his lungs. 

_Jesus Christ,_ he thought. With a groan, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. A dry laugh escaped him. A nightmare about the first day of school. What was he—a kindergartener?

He let his arms drop and splayed out on the mattress like a starfish. His room was still dark. He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table and unlocked it, cringing as the blinding light of the screen fell over his face. 

5:23 AM. 

He had a text message from his younger brother, Donghyun, sent at 2:12 AM. Donghyun had yet to fix his sleep schedule, which had deteriorated over the eight weeks of summer break.

 **Donghyun 2:12 AM**  
_HEY!!!_ _  
_ _Good luck tomorrow!_ _  
_ _Not trying to be cheesy or anything but_ _  
_ _You’ll do great_ _  
_ _You’re hard working and compassionate and one of the kindest people I know_ _  
_ _(Not biased)_ _  
_ _Us high schoolers are into that_ _  
_ _We love teachers who try hard even if they’re a little dorky_

Wonwoo typed back a quick reply.

 **Me 5:25 AM** **  
** _Haha thanks_ _  
_ _I had a dream that mom came into my classroom while I was teaching and humiliated me lmao classic mom_ _  
_ _Hope your day goes well too_ _  
_ _Last year for you!_

There was an hour before his alarm was scheduled to ring, but Wonwoo knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. With a sigh, he swung his legs out of bed, and began to get ready for the day. 

After his shower, he rubbed scent blocking lotion into his skin. An odd sense of deja vu permeated his routine. He dressed in a white collared shirt and navy trousers. With practised fingers, he looped his red and blue-striped tie over, under, and through, and then cinched the knot to his neck.

Breakfast was, indeed, cold kimbap left over from last night’s dinner. He popped open his pillbox and tossed back two pills, washing it down with a final swig of coffee. 

After double, and then triple-checking his bag, he closed his apartment door behind him. He took the elevator down to the car park and ducked into his sedan. A few right-turns later, he was on the highway, and on his way to the new school he was teaching at: Pointe Pledis Academy. 

Pointe Pledis Academy was located in the city of Pleiades, the capital and largest metropolis in the country. In this city—where modern skyscrapers, high-tech subways, and pop culture collided with Buddhist temples, palaces, and street markets—real estate was a scarce and highly valued commodity. More land meant more prestige, and Pointe Pledis spanned six city blocks.

The private school stood two stories tall and had three main wings: one devoted to the arts and humanities, another for maths and sciences, and a final wing for the performing arts and athletics. Behind the school, there was a track field, four tennis courts, and a soccer field, all of which were maintained weekly.

Unlike other private schools in the city, Pointe Pledis did not accept every student whose family flashed money at them. No—to be accepted into Pointe Pledis, one had to write an admissions essay, entrance examination, and sit an hour long interview. 

Pointe Pledis was not socioeconomically diverse. It attracted a very particular type of student, one who came from a rich family, was highly motivated, and gifted in any combination of academics, sports, or performing arts. Oftentimes, graduates of Pledis went onto study in one of the top universities in the nation. 

It was the kind of school with the kind of students that ate first year teachers alive. And Jeon Wonwoo, 23 years of age and fresh out of the secondary science education program, was one such teacher.

"The kids here are polite for the most part, but they can be pretty entitled," Yoon Jeonghan, beta and head of the science department, had told him. "But it's the parents you really have to worry about. Let me know if any parents give you a hard time. I can offer some advice on how to deal with them."

Wonwoo had had plenty of time to dread the attitude he might receive from parents and students alike. He had no doubt that some students wouldn’t respect him because he didn’t look a day out of high school himself. There would be parents who equated his age with incompetence, and demanded a more seasoned teacher for their children.

And maybe they were entitled to that, considering how much they paid in tuition. Tuition fees were a whopping $16,000 a year, rivaling those of universities. That number didn’t even include fees for uniforms, outdoor education, facilities, or meal plans.

Wonwoo pulled into the parking lot of Pointe Pledis. He entered the school, greeted the ladies at the office. Strode down the freshly waxed halls. The interior of the school was modern and open-concept, featuring natural materials and earthy tones. Weak September sunlight filtered through unadorned windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.

The clock on his classroom wall showed 7:15 AM. Classes started at 8:30 AM, giving him ample time to prepare and fret. He opened up his laptop and reviewed his schedule for the day.

Pledis operated on a linear system where students were enrolled in eight courses, and had four different courses on alternating days. Today, Wonwoo taught Physics 12 and Science 9 in the morning, and then another block of Science 9 and Physics 11 in the afternoon. Tomorrow, he started the day with a prep period to himself, followed by two blocks of Physics 12, and another block of Physics 11.

He hooked up his laptop to the projector and opened up the PowerPoint he had prepared for the introductory class. He scrolled through the slides, mentally going over everything he would say. He would introduce himself (as Mr. Jeon, not Wonwoo), give students a glimpse of what they would learn, and then lay out his expectations. After that, he would break students up into groups to work on a building activity. The final fifteen minutes of class were set aside for students to make their name tags. 

“Hey! How are you feeling?” Jeonghan, his next door neighbour, poked his head into the classroom. 

“Nervous. I’m worried I’ll do something stupid like forget my own name when I introduce myself.”

Jeonghan laughed. “Everyone’s nervous on the first day. I am too—barely slept last night—and I’ve been teaching for almost two decades. Everything will be fine. You’ll do great.”

“I hope so.”

“Come right in if you need help with anything, okay? Don’t worry about interrupting.”

“Okay. Thank you very much.”

Jeonghan gave him two thumbs up. “Good luck! You got this.” He disappeared back into his classroom. 

Hallways that had been quiet and empty minutes ago came alive as students entered the building. Shoes skidded over linoleum floors. Lockers banged and clattered. Friends who hadn't seen each other in months shouted each other's names from across the hall. Excited chatter filled the air. 

Even inside his room, Wonwoo felt the undercurrent of anticipation thrumming through the school.

Wonwoo plastered a smile onto his face, straightened his shoulders, and went to wait by the door to greet his students as they came in. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, offering good mornings to students who made eye contact with him, even if they weren't in his class.

Tiny eighth graders ran through the hallways, backpacks bouncing on their shoulders and cheeks flushed with worry as they searched for their classrooms. One of them came up to him and stammered out, "E-excuse me, where is Mr. Hong's classroom?"

Wonwoo pointed down the hallway. "All the way at the end of this hallway. You'll find his classroom on the right."

"Thanks, mister!"

When Wonwoo returned to his position, two boys were standing by the door. One of them was around Wonwoo’s height, and guiltily, Wonwoo was reminded of a camel he befriended at the zoo as a child. Those dimples and the narrow face, in contrast with big, droopy eyes and ridiculously long lashes… 

Yeah, the resemblance was there. The kid could probably charm Wonwoo in the same way, too. The kid could probably charm the entire damn school, judging by the glances that passing girls shot him.

The other student— 

_Oh wow,_ Wonwoo thought. When did they start making high schoolers this big? He had to tip his head up to meet the taller student’s eyes. He couldn’t help but notice that this student possessed the kind of looks that warranted a second glance. Maybe even a third one. His hair was cut in a medium-length crop and parted to the side. His bangs curled at the temples, highlighting his strong brows, narrow eyes, and defined cheekbones. A classic K-idol appearance, if a little more bronzed. Even the standard school-issued uniform looked refined on him.

Wonwoo sighed internally, woeful. High school students these days were so cool.

“Good morning,” Wonwoo said. “Are you two looking for Mr. Jeon?”

“Yeah,” said the taller of the two. “Is that you?”

“That’s me,” Wonwoo said with a smile.

“See, I told you!” said the shorter student. Not that he was short. Wonwoo was brushing six feet tall, which was rare for most omegas. This student was an inch or two shy of that, and still had years to grow.

The taller student laughed, revealing two rows of straight, white teeth and sharp canines. “No way, Mr. Jeon, I thought you were a student!”

“Dumbass,” the other student scolded. “Look at what he’s wearing. Does that look like a boy’s school uniform to you? No, that’s the uniform of a man.”

Wonwoo laughed, ran a self-conscious hand over his tie. “I’m guessing you’re in my Physics 12 class. What are your names?”

“I’m Mingyu,” said the taller of the two.

“I’m Seungcheol.”

"It's very good to meet you two," Wonwoo said, holding out his hand. Both boys looked surprised, but quickly regained themselves and shook hands with him.

"I think that's the first time a teacher ever shook my hand," said Mingyu.

Seungcheol opened his mouth to respond. Before he could form a syllable, a white and grey blur slammed into Mingyu, who then crashed into Seungcheol, who cried, “Ow, fuck!” All three bodies collided into the wall. Students passing by stopped to stare at the commotion, moving on when they realised it wasn’t a fight.

"Dude, you're going to get us in trouble before the year has started," Mingyu huffed, but he was grinning. He wiggled out of the tangle of limbs, smoothing out the wrinkles in his uniform and straightening his tie.

"Are you in this class too, Junhui?" asked Seungcheol.

"You're in Mr. Jeon's class?" asked Junhui. He was tall too, with sharp features and angled eyes. 

The three of them were probably alphas. They had the stature for it, and only alphas greeted each other with shoves, some residual expression from the primitive days of humanity. That being said, Wonwoo couldn't tell for sure. The scent blocker he took went both ways—he couldn't detect any alpha or omega scents. He would know for certain soon enough; a few interactions were often enough to reveal a person's secondary gender.

"Yeah, and so is Mingyu."

"Sweet. This is going to be the best class," said Junhui.

Mingyu waggled his eyebrows at Junhui. "Oh? Is Minghao in this class, too?"

Junhui shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. How would I know?”

Mingyu squinted at him. Then a smile broke across his face. “He is, isn’t he? You are so obvious.”

Behind the boys, a crowd was beginning to form. Some of the students gave Wonwoo a small smile when he looked over, which likely meant they were in his class and waiting to enter. It was subtle, but it affirmed Wonwoo’s initial thought that Junhui, Seungcheol, and Mingyu were alphas. And not just any alphas, but alphas who sat on a higher rung in the high school hierarchy. Otherwise, an alpha of higher ‘status’ would have postured and shoved past them instead of waiting. 

Tall, broad-shouldered, good looking. But also noisy and obnoxious. Mingyu, Seuncheol, and Junhui were the kind of alphas Wonwoo shied away from when he was a high school student. 

Pathetically, a small part of him was still intimidated. As an adult and a teacher, the problems he would have with the three boys would be different. They could easily sway the classroom, either in Wonwoo’s favour or against him. He knew from experience that a single kid could completely change the classroom dynamic. Getting kids like Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Junhui on his side was crucial.

“Boys,” Wonwoo said. “I think you’re blocking the door. Why don’t you head inside?”

Mingyu threw a look over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, whoops. Do we sit wherever we like, or is there a seating plan?”

“You may sit wherever you like.”

“You’re awesome, Mr. Jeon,” Seungcheol said.

The three boys entered the room and sat in the row at the back. Other students trailed in after them, finding somewhere to sit with their friends.

Wonwoo moved around the classroom. Asked for names, and promptly forgot them once he moved on to another student. He asked them about their summer break, what classes they were looking forward to this year, and how they felt about physics. Predictably, very few students liked the subject. Most were taking it to meet their science requirement or keep their options open. Wonwoo didn’t take it personally.

The noise level in the classroom spiked when a thin mousy boy with round wire-framed glasses entered the room.

“Minghao, over here!” Seungcheol called.

“There’s a seat over here beside Junhui that has your name on it,” Mingyu said.

“Guys, shut up,” Junhui hissed. Seungcheol was in the unfortunate position of sitting beside him, so he was subjected to Junhui’s elbow in the ribs.

Minghao quirked a smile at the boys, and then rushed over to sit beside his friend who was waving him over.

“Ouch,” Seungcheol said, clapping a hand over his chest. “I felt that rejection in my heart.”

Junhui did an impressive eye roll that displayed the whites of his eyes. “You guys are so fucking obnoxious.”

“Um, excuse me, language,” Mingyu reprimanded. He turned in his seat and scanned the classroom. He lit up when his eyes landed on Wonwoo. “Mr. Jeon, Junhui just swore at me.”

“Please be mindful of your language in the classroom, Junhui,” Wonwoo said.

“Sorry, Mr. Jeon,” Junhui said.

The bell rang, signalling the start of the school day.

Wonwoo weaved through the desks and made his way to the front of the class. His knees felt like they might give way beneath him at any moment. His heart was pounding somewhere up in his skull. 

He faced the class. Kids were still out of their seats, too engrossed in their conversations to notice that he was waiting for their attention. He took the opportunity to gather his bearings. Clenched his fingers into fists. 

He was shaking, he realised. He took several slow and measured breaths. Friends nudged each other to sit down. The class settled at the same time he brought himself under control.

He swept his gaze over a sea of faces, and they stared back at him. Quiet and attentive. Expectant. Waiting to make a snap judgement. Probably wondering the same things he was: Will we like each other? Can we learn from each other? How will the year go?

With a smile, Wonwoo spoke, “Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the start of a new school year, and to Physics 12. My name is Mr. Jeon and I will be your teacher for the year.” He went to the next slide on the PowerPoint. “I’d like to start by sharing a little bit about myself with you…”

The rest of the class passed by in a blur. After going over expectations and the course outline, Wonwoo broke the students off into groups to work on an activity. Their task was to build the tallest structure possible using straws and masking tape. While students worked, Wonwoo circulated the classroom to chat with groups, asking about their building plan (“The plan is to win,” Mingyu said), and getting to know them better.

After debriefing the activity with the entire class, Wonwoo handed out sheets of coloured paper for students to make their name tags. There were two reactions to this: “We’re making _name tags?”_ and “We’re making name tags!”

Wonwoo told the class he wanted five things from them: their name, obviously; what they would like to see from him as their teacher; their goal for the year; their favourite thing; and three words they associated with science.

Soon, class was over. Wonwoo dismissed the students. “Have a great day, everyone,” he said. “You can hand your name tags to me on your way out.”

Students filed out of the classroom. Mingyu was the last to leave.

“Thanks for the class, Mr. Jeon.” Mingyu grinned at him and handed over his name tag. “I’m actually looking forward to physics this year.”

A shy pleasure crept over Wonwoo. “Thank you, Mingyu. I look forward to being your teacher. I hope we can learn a lot from each other.”

“It’s your first year teaching, right?”

“That’s right.”

“This was an awesome first class. The activity was pretty fun,” Mingyu said. 

Wonwoo laughed. “Well, I’m not sure if the rest of the year will be nearly as exciting.”

“I think you’ll be great. I already like you better than the physics teacher I had last year.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Wonwoo’s eyes flickered over Mingyu’s shoulders. A tiny girl wearing space buns was sneaking up behind Mingyu. When Mingyu was within distance, she pounced. 

Mingyu stumbled forward a half-step as she crashed into his back. “Hey!” he growled, playful.

She giggled. Slithered off him and put some distance between them. “Who are you flirting with?” she asked, turning inquisitive eyes on Wonwoo.

“That’s my teacher, you idiot,” Mingyu said. “I wasn’t flirting. I was making conversation.”

“Oh! _You’re_ Mr. Jeon?” she asked. “I’m Chaeyoung. I’m in your Science 9 class.”

Mingyu made a face. “I feel so bad for Mr. Jeon.”

“You feel bad?” Chaeyoung huffed. “ _I_ feel bad. Can’t believe he has to put up with you first thing in the morning.”

Mingyu made a grab for her, but she slipped out of his arms, laughing. Her skirt swished as she trotted over to an empty desk.

“Get out of here,” she said. “You’re going to be late for class.”

“Watch out for her, Mr. Jeon,” Mingyu warned. “She’s a big cheater. She cheats on every test.”

“Shut up! I do not,” Chaeyoung said. “I’ve never cheated, ever. Honestly, Mr. Jeon.”

“Liar,” Mingyu said, wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. He walked backwards toward the door. “Anyway, I better get going. See you next day, Mr. Jeon.”

“Bye-bye,” Wonwoo called after him. He looked at the nametags in his hand. On top, written in surprisingly neat script was:

 **KIM MINGYU**  
I love soccer  
I hate it when teachers take forever to mark a test  
My goal is to get an A  
Three words: soccer, swag, sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola everybuddy (o´▽`o)ﾉ After more than a year of radio silence, I am back with a new Meanie fic! Do people still care about this pairing? I hope so. This plot bunny grabbed me by the ears and shook me and demanded that I write it. The plot is extremely straight-forward, so I have no idea how this became the longest thing I've ever written. I do have a backlog of chapters, so you can expect updates at least once a week.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this first chapter. Kudos and comments are appreciated, and are huge motivators ♡ This fic is unbeta'd and my first attempt at a long fic, so please feel free to point out any typos and/or offer constructive criticism. 
> 
> A heads up moving forward: I know nothing about soccer, math, physics, or teaching, so I imagine there are probably lots of inaccuracies in this fic. I hope you are able to suspend your belief, and that this story makes for an enjoyable read anyway. This fic is set in some made-up but expensive city in North America, since I know nothing about the Korean education system, and because of ~plot reasons~ (and by 'plot reasons', I mean it makes it easier for MinWon to fuck lmaoo) 
> 
> Connect with me on [tumblr](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/lillupon), where I post MinWon bread, writing stuff, and MinWon ficlets.


	2. September: Part Two

Every day after first period, there was a forty minute long study hall. Study hall was set aside as an opportunity for students to catch up on homework, make up missed tests and assignments, and receive extra help from their teachers.

Wonwoo hadn't expected many students to sign up for his study hall session. They were three weeks into the school year. After spending some time brushing up on important skills, they had just started to sink their teeth into the meat of the curriculum. There simply wasn't much for students to do—yet.

But despite the lack of work in his class, he always had three regulars in his room: Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Junhui. The three alphas showed up even when they didn't have Physics 12 that day.

"Morning, Mr. Jeon," Seungcheol said.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon!" Mingyu chirped.

"Hello, Mr. Jeon," came Junhui's quieter greeting.

Wonwoo peered up from his laptop to smile at them. "Hi, boys. How's it going?"

"Good," Mingyu replied. "Hungry. My stomach kept growling during class this morning."

They plopped down on the desks beside Wonwoo's, unpacking their belongings and spreading out their books. Mingyu took out his lunch kit and brought out a bun, demolishing half of it in a single bite.

"Holy shit," Seungcheol said. "Didn’t you just eat your lunch during first block? How are you hungry again?"

"I'm a growing boy," Mingyu said through a mouthful of food. He popped the rest of the bun into his mouth, chewing a few times before swallowing. He washed it down with a gulp from his water bottle. "Oh, Mr. Jeon. Are you any good at math?"

Junhui had his binder open and was scribbling things down on a sheet of paper. He looked up from his work to say, "Of course he's good at math. He's teaching physics, which is basically math."

Wonwoo chuckled. "Yes, I would say I'm good at math. Why?"

"Oh, thank god," Mingyu said. "Can you help me with Calculus? I have no idea what’s going on in that class, and at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. Mr. Lee scares me."

"Mr. Lee? I love that guy," Seungcheol said. He straightened in his seat and spoke in mimicry, "'You guys understand this, right? This is easy, right? Stupid easy. No intelligence required.'"

Junhui barked out a laugh. "Oh my god, that sounds exactly like him. 'Stupid easy'—and then half the class fails his test, and the other half gets fifty-five percent."

"I think my favourite teacher this year is Mr. Boo. He's so funny. I'm literally peeing my pants in that class," Seungcheol said.

"That's so mean!" Mingyu said.

"What? How is that mean?" Seungcheol asked.

Mingyu's eyes flickered to Wonwoo. "Why would you say Mr. Boo is your favourite teacher when Mr. Jeon is right there? You'll hurt his feelings."

"That's quite alright. I can take it," Wonwoo said.

Seungcheol huffed. "I'm not saying that I don't like Mr. Jeon." He turned to meet Wonwoo and said seriously, "I like you too, Mr. Jeon. I'm just saying that Mr. Boo is my favourite. He's funny, and all he does is tell stories all class. We end up not doing any work. Easy A."

"Well, my favourite teacher is Mr. Jeon," Mingyu announced, flashing a smile in Wonwoo's direction.

"You're only saying that because you hope he'll give you extra marks." Junhui said.

"I am not! It's true."

"You are such an ass-kisser," Seungcheol chortled.

Mingyu picked up his Calculus textbook and walked around to Wonwoo's desk. "Mr. Jeon, I'm not just saying that because I want bonus marks from you."

"That's good, because I don't give out bonus marks. Though judging by the work you've shown me so far, I don't really think you need any," Wonwoo said.

Mingyu shot Seungcheol and Junhui a smug look. "Mr. Jeon just confirmed it, boys. I'm better than you two."

"He did not say that," Junhui said. "You're just hearing what you want to hear."

Wonwoo couldn't help but be amused by the boys' conversation. They were alphas, old enough to start looking like men. Their cheeks had lost their baby fat, the angles of their jaws hardening along with the muscles in their bodies. In a year, they would be considered adults. 

But right now, they reminded Wonwoo of gormless puppies, seeking out affection and wanting to give it in return. A swell of fondness filled Wonwoo's chest. Omega instinct, perhaps. There was a desire to help, nurture, and protect.

"Why don't you show me what you need help with, Mingyu?" Wonwoo shoved aside a stack of papers and his laptop to make room for Mingyu to set down his textbook. "Pull a chair over, and let's take a look."

Mingyu carried over a chair and took a seat. He flipped through his textbook. "We just started the limit definition of a derivative," he said. He edged his chair closer for a better look at the textbook. The motion caused their knees to bump against one another. Wonwoo drew his knees close, keeping his thighs flush together in order to maintain an appropriate distance.

"Oops," said Mingyu. He peeked at Wonwoo from the corner of his eyes. Shy.

If Wonwoo had paused to consider, he might have realised that the glance was measuring rather than embarrassed. He might have realised that Mingyu was gauging his reaction.

If Wonwoo hadn't taken his blockers and suppressants, he might have detected the subtle undertone of admiration and fascination—the beginnings of an attraction, swiftly buried before anyone else could pick up on it.

But Wonwoo hadn't spared it a second thought, and he had taken his medication. He passed off the touch as an accident that sometimes happened when two people sat beside each other. "No problem," Wonwoo said, waving off the apology. He found a scrap piece of paper and grabbed a pencil from the stationary holder on his desk.

"I have to do all of these questions for homework," Mingyu said. "I don't understand any of it, though."

Wonwoo's eyes skimmed over the questions. It had been a while since he worked with the limit definition of a derivative, but the concept returned to him quickly. "Okay. Let's do the first problem together. Usually, students struggle with these kinds of problems because the notation confuses them, or because their algebra skills aren't where they should be—"

"Hear that, Mingyu? Your algebra skills are garbage," Seungcheol said.

"Shh!" Mingyu hushed Seungcheol with a glare. "I'm trying to learn."

Wonwoo wrote down the definition of a derivative at the top of the page for them to refer to. Then, he copied down the first question. He walked Mingyu through the steps of the problem, prompting Mingyu to tell him what to do next, and checking for understanding. Mingyu was a focused student, keeping his eyes trained on the page, and an even more attentive listener. He leaned forward and nodded as Wonwoo spoke.

They worked through two more problems like that, before Wonwoo asked Mingyu to try the next question on his own. His brows furrowed in deep concentration as he attempted the problem. Once he had completed it, he pushed the paper toward Wonwoo.

Wonwoo inspected the problem, and then sat back with a smile on his face. "Looks good. You got it."

A blinding grin stretched across Mingyu's lips, all pearly white teeth and pointed canines. Such sharp canines were rare in modern society. Only the most prominent of alpha lineages still exhibited alpha-exclusive physical traits. Wonwoo was willing to bet that Mingyu had an aura too, though he couldn't pick up on it; his senses were smothered by the cocktail of medication he was taking.

"No way, Mr. Jeon, is that it?"

Wonwoo nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

"That's so easy! I feel stupid for not understanding it earlier."

"You're not stupid, Mingyu. Calculus is hard. No one expects you to get it right the first time."

"You're really good at explaining things, Mr. Jeon. You make things seem so easy."

"Thank you, Mingyu. I'm glad I could help."  _ Jeez, _ Wonwoo thought. This kid really knew how to stroke an ego.

"Okay, I think I can do the rest on my own." Mingyu gathered up his textbook and the sheets of paper where he did his work, and returned to his desk.

  
  
  


Wonwoo stood at the front of class, going over a PowerPoint on the five stages of mitosis. “Next, we have anaphase. In this phase, sister chromatids separate from each other and…” He trailed off as fresh chatter rose in the room. Again. His grip on his laser pointer tightened, a low growl rumbling in his throat. The sound was inaudible to anyone other than himself.

_ Does anyone here plan on listening to a damn thing I’m saying, or should I go fuck myself? _

It had taken them forty minutes to get to anaphase, when they should have been able to cover all the stages of cell division within a half-hour. They would have finished taking notes by now, if he hadn’t kept getting interrupted. 

“Oh crap. Mr. Jeon looks really mad. Guys, shut up,” Chaeyoung said, as if she weren’t part of the problem.

She was so close to becoming self-aware. Wasn’t quite there yet, though.

“He probably hates us,” Nayeon said. “Mr. Jeon, are we your most annoying class?”

“I don’t hate anyone,” Wonwoo said, ignoring her question. Because, yes. This class often made him want to dash his brains out against the whiteboard. “But I am getting pretty frustrated, and I imagine that some of you are getting frustrated, too. Many of us are here to learn, and want to learn. It is unfortunate that there are a few selfish individuals who are ruining the learning experience for everyone.”

The class settled, blinking up at him with round, guileless eyes. Wonwoo glowered at the class, glare lingering on a few students in particular. He resolved to pull them aside after class. 

Students behaved for the remainder of the lesson. Once they were quiet, it had taken them less than ten minutes to finish the notes for telophase and cytokinesis. After showing them a video that summarised the stages of cell division, he handed out a worksheet. 

“Mr. Jeon,” Chaeyoung said.

“Yes?”

“Do you know Kim Mingyu?”

“I do. He’s in my Physics 12 class.”

“Did you know he’s my brother?”

“That, I was not aware of.” Wonwoo tilted his head, scrutinising Chaeyoung. He didn’t see the resemblance. Chaeyoung was doe-eyed, with fair skin and a dew drop face, Mingyu’s opposite in almost every way. 

“Wait.” Nayeon looked up from her worksheet. “Mingyu is your brother?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know that?”

“No!” Nayeon smacked Chaeyoung’s arm, causing Chaeyoung to wince. “You should have told me. Oh my god—you are so lucky.” 

“What? How am I lucky?”

“Mingyu is  _ hot,”  _ Nayeon said. 

“Ew,” Chaeyoung said, wrinkling her nose. “Wish I didn’t hear that. And anyway, how does it make me lucky if my brother is hot? It’s not like I can date him.” She shuddered. “Oh god.”

“Isn’t he dating Momo?”

Chaeyoung nodded. “Yup.”

“Wow. I bet they’d make some really good looking babies.”

Chaeyoung gagged, which sent Nayeon cackling. “Ew! Can you not? Why would you say that when Mr. Jeon is right there? So inappropriate,” she scolded. “I can’t talk to you anymore.” She turned to Wonwoo. “How’s Mingyu doing in your class, Mr. Jeon? He’s annoying, isn’t he? And noisy.”

Wonwoo laughed. “I enjoy having him in my class, actually. He’s doing really well and works hard. He’s in my classroom every study hall and lunch period, studying.” 

“That’s because he likes you,” Chaeyoung said. “You’re his favourite teacher this year. You’re my favourite teacher too.” She smiled winningly at him.

Wonwoo laughed again. “Thank you, Chaeyoung.” This was why he couldn’t stay mad at his students for long. They had him wrapped around their finger. A hand flew up at the back of the class; Wonwoo excused himself to assist the student.

  
  
  


Wonwoo was starving by the time lunch rolled around. Between lecturing at the front of the class and being yanked every which way by students who needed help, he was on his feet all day. Even his convenience store lunch sounded appetizing to him right now. He fired off a quick email to a concerned parent and then locked his classroom door behind him. He turned around, nearly bumping into Mingyu.

"Oh!" Wonwoo made a small noise of surprise and took half a step back. "Sorry, Mingyu. I didn't see you there."

Behind Mingyu was a girl Wonwoo had never seen before. She barely came up to Mingyu's shoulders. Her long, dark hair framed her small face in gentle waves, and her eyes were large and expressive. She had an arm curled around Mingyu’s. A girlfriend, probably—Momo, Wonwoo thought.

"Hi, Mr. Jeon. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you leaving?"

"I was going to go have lunch," Wonwoo said. "Can I do anything for you?"

"I was wondering if we could eat lunch in your classroom and then get some work done. But it's okay if you're leaving." As he said that, Wonwoo spotted Seungcheol coming up the stairs, long legs eating up three steps at a time.

"Sure. I don't mind," Wonwoo said, unlocking his classroom door. "I'll leave the classroom to you, then. You'll guard my laptop and belongings for me?"

"With my life," Mingyu promised. "I'll beat up anyone who touches your stuff."

Wonwoo laughed. "Okay. I trust you." He greeted Seungcheol who waved at him. "You three enjoy your lunch."

"Thanks, Mr. Jeon. You too!" said Seungcheol.

Wonwoo trotted down the stairs and made his way to the staffroom. He wanted to spend as much time with other teachers as possible, before he became too busy to leave his classroom. Despite the fact that he was surrounded by people all day, teaching could be a lonely and solitary profession. Engaging in conversations with students wasn't the same as talking to his colleagues.

Wonwoo's stomach clamped down on nothing in an angry demand for food. He quickened his steps. 

Mina Myoui waved him over when he entered the staff room. "Wonwoo, over here!" 

"Hey," Wonwoo said. "Just let me warm up my food and I'll join you."

Mina was also a first-year teacher, but in the language and home economics department. She taught Japanese, English, and foods classes. They were hired on the same day and had hit it off immediately, bonding over the stresses of being a new teacher in a new school. They had spent the last two weeks of summer holed up in a library, planning lessons and activities and bouncing ideas off each other. In between work-related talk, they learned that they shared a love for karaoke and reading. They joined a book club together and promised to visit a karaoke joint over winter break.

They were also both omegas, though Mina wasn't aware of it. She had assumed that he was a beta, and Wonwoo had never corrected her.

Mina was the sweetest omega Wonwoo had ever met. She was soft-spoken and gentle, the kind of omega you didn't think actually existed in real life. She looked the part too, with her small face, large eyes, and cute button of the nose. Next to her, Wonwoo felt overlarge and clumsy. But of course, being the fairytale omega brought its own set of problems.

Students often took advantage of Mina's kindness, skipping her classes and handing in assignments late. Alphas and betas interrupted her and held their own conversations while she was trying to deliver instruction. A bold alpha had even used his Voice on her, trying to convince her to give him an A on a test he had failed. That alpha was rewarded with a disciplinary hearing with the administration team and was suspended for a week.

"Can't believe he used his Voice for something so stupid. He could have easily gotten an A if he had just shown up and took some notes here and there. I mean, it's a foods class, for god's sake," Mina had huffed, but her arms were crossed over her chest in an unconscious gesture of protection. It was obvious the event had shaken her.

Omegas adored her, though, flocking to her side like ducklings regardless of what grade they were in. They were drawn to her warmth and took it upon themselves to defend her against rude students. Wonwoo was one of those omegas.

Wonwoo settled beside Mina, opening up his plastic lunch box. Steam rose from the meal, fogging up his glasses.

Mina took one look at Wonwoo's lunch and declared, "Sad, boring, probably tastes like disappointment."

Wonwoo laughed. "It's not that bad. Look, I have carbs, protein, and vegetables," he said, jabbing his chopsticks at the rice, fried sausage slices, an over-easy egg, and a pile of kimchi.

"I can't believe you paid real money for that. My grade eights could make something better."

"Probably," Wonwoo agreed. The fried sausage had lost its crisp, the batter having turned soggy in the microwave, but he was so hungry that it tasted better than anything he could buy from a five star restaurant.

"Our school has an awesome cafeteria, if you haven't tried it yet. You get to skip the line, and you also get a teacher's discount." Jeonghan placed a hand over the back of a chair. "Can I sit here?"

"Yes, of course," Mina said.

"Hi, Wonwoo," Jeonghan said. He turned to Mina and held out a hand. "I don't think we've met before. I’m Jeonghan. I teach science here."

"Mina," Mina said, taking the proffered hand. "It's good to meet you. I'm a new teacher here. I teach Japanese, English, and foods."

Jeonghan made a sympathetic clucking noise. "That sounds like a lot of different classes to plan for. How's that going?"

Mina let out an explosive sigh, shoulders slumping. She pushed her food around, then brought chopsticks up to her lips for a morose bite of her kimbap. She chewed and swallowed before speaking. "I feel like my lessons would be good if I could actually get through them, but my kids won’t be quiet. Especially the group of grade nines I have after lunch."

"Ah," Jeonghan said. "Are you the teacher who has all the soccer academy kids?"

"Yeah, that's me. I can't get them to sit down and be quiet. I don't even know why they're taking my class when it's obvious they don't care. They're just…" Mina struggled for words. She settled on, "They're a lot."

"'A lot'?" Jeonghan repeated with a smile. "Go on. You can say it. They're little shits."

Mina giggled. "Yes. That."

Wonwoo was content to listen to them, instead focusing on shoveling food into his stomach. He took a gulp from his water bottle, wiping his mouth with a napkin. His eyes followed the conversation, jumping from Mina to Jeonghan, and then Mina again.

"Every first year teacher struggles with classroom management in the beginning, but you get better at it,” Jeonghan said. “You develop a stronger, more commanding presence. In some ways, you get less patient. You're less willing to tolerate bullshit from kids, especially the ones that ruin the learning experience for others."

Mina nodded. "Yeah. I really need to work on my teacher's presence. I should have gone in strict from the start. Now these kids are walking all over me."

"Yep, you got it. Gotta be strict from the start," said Jeonghan. "But to be fair, even a veteran teacher would struggle with a class full of jocks. Sometimes your secondary gender plays a role in it, too."

“I’m an omega,” Mina said. 

Jeonghan inclined a head in her direction, as if to say,  _ case in point. _ “It’s unfair, but it’s the reality.”

Wonwoo wondered if his own grade nines knew, on some intuitive level, that he was an omega. Maybe that was why he couldn’t control them. Or maybe it was his nature. He was too soft. Hated confrontation. Struggled to set boundaries, because he wanted his students to like him.

Mina made a sound of agreement. “I can’t keep using my secondary gender as an excuse, though.”

“True,” Jeonghan said. "It mostly comes down to experience and finding what works for you. I try to be friendly, but firm. I lay out my rules and consequences, and I follow through with my punishments. That's the important part: you have to follow through. Otherwise, kids will know that you won't actually enforce anything."

"I see," Mina said, bobbing her head. "That's good advice."

"When I first started out, my classes were fucking wild. I even got written up by the principal and had to take a remedial course on classroom management," Jeonghan said with a laugh. "Alphas tried to pull all sorts of shit on me. One of them called me 'babe'. Another one slapped my ass and told me I was the sexiest teacher in the school."

Mina gasped. Wonwoo's eyes widened.

"No way," Mina said.

"Yep," said Jeonghan. "The kid was in grade eleven, so he had just presented, and he overestimated how much alphas could get away with."

"What did you do?" Wonwoo asked, scooping a heap of rice into his mouth.

"The kid who called me babe? I brought him out to the hall and told him he was completely out of line, and that I didn't ever want to hear him say that again."

"What about the other kid? The one who touched you?" asked Mina.

"I told admin right away,” Jeonghan said. “You always have to tell admin right away when something like that happens. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's better to be safe than sorry. If a kid is out to get you, they might try to spin the story in their favour, and suddenly, you're the one who did the ass-slapping. You want admin to hear your side of the story first."

Mina shuddered. "I can't believe students are bold enough to do something like that."

"It's common for students to have a crush on their teachers,” Jeonghan said. “Especially if their teachers are young, smart, and good looking, like you two are.”

Mina laughed, scandalised.

Jeonghan smiled. "You laugh, but it happens." He continued, "Students confuse admiration with real feelings. Of course, the vast majority never act on these feelings. But when they do, and when the teacher doesn’t take the appropriate actions, it never ends well for the teacher."

"I've read about those cases," Wonwoo said.

"Me too," Mina said. "It's wrong on so many levels, but I can't stop reading them."

Jeonghan nodded. "Yeah, it’s fascinating, isn’t it? Kind of like rubbernecking a car accident."

"I can't imagine why anyone would want to sleep with their students. I mean, they're practically babies," Mina said.

"Sometimes the age difference isn't all that big," Jeonghan pointed out. "It can be as small as five or six years. And the seniors, they’re starting to look like men and women."

Mina hummed thoughtfully around a mouthful of food. "I probably wouldn't think twice if a thirty year old and a thirty-five year old were in a relationship."

"About five years ago, not at this school, but another school," Jeonghan started, "a teacher and a student went public with their relationship right after the student graduated. The student was eighteen by then, and the teacher was twenty-five or twenty-six. That story was huge in our district for a couple of weeks."

"If they went public with their relationship the moment the student graduated, wouldn’t that imply they were already sleeping together prior to that?" Wonwoo asked.

"Yep," Jeonghan said. "That's why the teacher got their license suspended. They could start teaching again after five years, but no school would be desperate enough to hire a predator—” He made quotation marks with his fingers around the word ‘predator’ “—even after a decade. The potential for backlash would be too great."

"Even if they waited five years after graduation, it would still be weird, wouldn't it?" Mina asked. "I mean… It would mean that the teacher was attracted to the student while the student was still in high school, right?"

Jeonghan shrugged. "It's kind of a grey area. My uncle ended up marrying one of his former high school students. He said that there hadn't been anything going on between the two of them back when his wife was his student. They ended up reconnecting several years after she graduated, and they hit it off."

"I suppose that's not too bad," said Mina, in a rather reluctant tone.

The warning bell rang to indicate that lunch was over. In six minutes, students and teachers were expected to be in their classrooms and ready to teach or learn.

Jeonghan sighed, looking down mournfully at his untouched lunch. He covered it with the lid and returned it to his lunch kit. "In the future, please feel free to tell me to shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the overwhelming support on chapter one! Your excited comments got ME excited, so I ended up updating early. I hope you enjoyed this chapter; I'd love to hear what you think in the comments.
> 
> Until next time, stay awesome! ♡ ♡ ♡


	3. October

“The trick to this question,” Wonwoo explained, “is to realise that tension is the greatest at the bottom of the swing. Here, tension must increase to oppose the force of gravity.”

Wonwoo was kneeling at the side of Mingyu's desk, working through a problem on circular motion. He wrote down the formula _F=ma_ on the page, nudging it closer to Mingyu so that he could continue. He prompted, "So, if we are considering the body at the lowest point in its path, what should I replace F with?"

"Uh," said Mingyu. "Tension minus the force of gravity?"

"Good. Now it looks like a question we've solved before, doesn't it?"

“Uh. Kind of.”

Wonwoo glanced up, scanning the classroom to take note of all the students with their hands up. First was Seungcheol, then Minghao, and then Jihyo. He made eye contact with them and nodded to let them know he would be with them shortly. "I think you can take it from here." Wonwoo stood, brushing the dirt away from his black trousers. He had barely taken a step in Seungcheol's direction when Mingyu cried out.

"Mr. Jeon, no! Don't leave me, I'm not done yet."

"Oh my god, dude," Seungcheol said. "Stop asking him so many questions!"

"He's my teacher. I'm allowed to ask him questions," Mingyu shot back.

"Yeah, but you're hogging him! Didn't your parents teach you how to share? It's my turn now," Seungcheol said. He turned big, imploring eyes on Wonwoo. "Mr. Jeon, please. I really need your help with this question."

"Just wait, dude," Mingyu huffed. He hadn't looked up the entire time, scribbling away on his sheet and jabbing a finger at his calculator. "I'm almost done."

"Oh my god," Seungcheol said, throwing his head back and letting out an exasperated groan. "Hurry up. The bell is going to ring."

Wonwoo laughed, charmed and fond. He knew that teachers had their own internal biases and their favourite students, though they weren’t supposed to. In his defense, it was human nature to be attracted to someone who liked you back. Likewise, teachers were often drawn to the more extroverted students who reached out on their own, leaving to the wayside quieter students who needed greater support. Despite knowing this, it was still far too easy to drift to Mingyu’s side. Mingyu always wanted attention and was one of the few students who weren’t afraid to ask questions when stuck. He was a strong student who liked Wonwoo, and well... 

Wonwoo favoured him too. It took a conscious effort to spend more time with his other students.

It surprised Wonwoo how attached Mingyu had gotten to him over the past few weeks. Mingyu was the only student who greeted him every single day with, "Good morning, Mr. Jeon. How are you today?" and left after class with, "Thanks, Mr. Jeon. See you tomorrow!" They could be on opposite ends of the hall, and Mingyu would shout his name, much to Wonwoo’s embarrassment and the irritation of other teachers. Mingyu was in his class twice, if not three times a day: in physics, during study hall, and lunch.

There were days when Mingyu was the only student in his room at lunch. Sometimes, he was accompanied by his girlfriend, Momo. When Wonwoo had asked where Seungcheol and Junhui were, Mingyu replied with a shrug, "They're eating lunch in Mr. Boo's room with everyone else. I like it here, though. It's quiet."

It wasn't as if Mingyu didn't have other friends to spend time with. It was the opposite: Mingyu was popular. He was loud and friendly and athletic. With his good looks and warm personality, there was no shortage of people who wanted to spend time with him—or date him, for that matter, judging by the conversations Wonwoo had overheard. But Mingyu had imprinted on him like a duckling, wanting to be wherever Wonwoo was.

Mingyu waved a calculator at Wonwoo. "Is this right?"

"Yes it is."

Mingyu nodded, pleased with himself. He recorded the answer on his page. "Okay. You can go now."

"How gracious of you," Wonwoo said. "Alright, Seungcheol. What's giving you a hard time?"

"Everything," Seungcheol said miserably. "I'm going to fail the test on Thursday. My parents are going to kill me."

"They aren't going to kill you, because you aren't going to fail," Wonwoo said. "Remember what I said at the beginning of the year? Failure isn't an option. If you don't pass a test, I expect you to keep rewriting it until you do. Of course, it won't take that many attempts, because I'm going to help you out." Wonwoo felt eyes on him. He glanced in Mingyu's direction and found Mingyu gazing at him.

Mingyu had his chin resting on a fist. When their eyes met, he smiled, sweet and close-lipped. "You're so nice, Mr. Jeon. You're the nicest teacher I've ever had. No one else lets us write retests."

Junhui snorted, turning the noise into a cough when Mingyu glared at him.

Wonwoo sniffed. "Yes, well, I think it's an important part of the learning process." That was putting it lightly. He had strong opinions on giving students rewrites, but he was a new and inexperienced teacher. He couldn't just come barrelling in, criticising and overturning assessment practices that had been in place for decades.

"I think you might see me next week during study hall to write the retest, Mr. Jeon," Seungcheol said.

Junhui laughed. He was the only one in their group who didn't fight over Wonwoo's attention, instead preferring to work through problems on his own or with the help of his classmates. "You haven't even written the test yet. How do you know if you'll fail or not?"

"I know," Seungcheol said. _"I know."_

"That means you're going to be in my classroom every day this week for study hall, right Seungcheol?" Wonwoo said.

Seungcheol sighed. "Yes, sir."

  
  
  


The dismissal bell rang at 3 PM. By 3:05 PM, the hallways and classrooms were deserted, indicating lives that were rich with after school sports, activities, and private tutoring. It was a stark contrast from the countryside where Wonwoo did his practicum. There, students remained in school until they were kicked out. Some students preferred school over rougher home environments; others were getting extra support in the homework club, or simply hanging out with friends. At Pointe Pledis, a homework club didn’t even exist, and students were eager to leave campus grounds at the end of the school day. This suited Wonwoo just fine, because it allowed him time to mark tests and prepare his lessons for the following day.

With a sigh, Wonwoo pushed himself away from his desk. He had been folded over, marking a stack of tests for the past two hours. His muscles had stiffened and locked into place. He leaned back against his chair, stretching his arms overhead. A groan left him as his vertebrae cracked and popped. With a heavy exhale, he left his arms drop. A glance at the clock told him that it was 5:29 PM. Outside, the sun was starting to set.

He didn’t often make it a habit of staying this late, but he was behind on lesson planning, and now he had tests from three Physics 12 classes and Science 9 tests to add to the workload. He wanted to get as much done as possible today and tomorrow so he could relax over the weekend. Leaving the marking for next week wasn’t ideal, since he would have to start writing interim reports, and that was a time-consuming enough endeavour on its own.

Wonwoo deflated at the thought of all the work he had left to do.

 _Just thirty more minutes,_ he told himself. That would be enough time to finish marking all the tests for this particular class. He would work until 6 PM, and then on the way home, he’d stop by his favourite noodle soup restaurant—a mid-week treat. His dinner would taste even better after a long day of work. He rolled out his shoulders. With renewed determination, he picked up his pen and the next test in the pile.

The test belonged to Mingyu. Mingyu’s tests were always a pleasure to mark. His printing was neat and easy to read, not so small that Wonwoo had to squint to make out the letters and numbers. He laid out his steps in a logical manner, making it easy for Wonwoo to find mistakes and award half-marks. Mingyu rarely made mistakes in the first place, though. That was another reason why Wonwoo enjoyed marking his work; tests were fast to mark when the answers were all wrong, or all correct.

Wonwoo skimmed the answers, and then drew a line of checkmarks down the page. At the top of the test, he wrote down a total of 38 out of 39 and circled it. Admittedly, he might have been jealous if he were a student himself. Some people seemed to have it all: appearance, money, athleticism, and the brains. But as a teacher, he felt proud. It made him feel like he had done something right.

He was in the middle of marking another test when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear—

“Oh, Mingyu,” Wonwoo said. He straightened in his chair, nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing here so late?”

Mingyu’s appearance was a welcome break from the grind of marking, and Wonwoo felt himself perking up. There was an odd fluttering in his chest that he couldn’t make sense of, wouldn’t make sense of. He refused to acknowledge it, smothering the sensation as quickly as it had bubbled forth.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon. I just finished soccer practice.” Mingyu was still dressed in athletic gear. His white shorts and white socks were smeared with grass and dirt stains. Overtop, he wore a hoodie with the school crest emblazoned on the front. A duffle bag hung from one shoulder, and a backpack from the other.

“How did that go?”

“It was good. We have a game against JYP Secondary in two weeks. They’re one of the best teams in the country.” A confident smirk lifted the corner of Mingyu’s lips, revealing the sharp edge of his teeth. “Almost as good as we are. You should come, if you have time.” 

"Will you remind me closer to the date? I'll see if I can make it."

"Sure." Mingyu nodded. "Anyway, I just wanted to come say hi. I didn't think you would still be here."

"I'm usually not, but…" Wonwoo waved a hand over his desk, which was buried under stacks of papers. "Tests."

Mingyu's eyes brightened. "You're marking tests? Have you marked mine yet, by any chance? I mean, not to rush you, or anything."

"Yes, I have. You did very well."

Mingyu laughed, delighted. "No way, really? I thought I did so bad. I didn't know what I was doing at all for that last question."

Wonwoo picked up the first test in the 'marked' pile and held it out to Mingyu.

Mingyu let his backpack and duffle bag drop to the ground with a heavy thud. He pulled over a chair, sitting down and taking the test from Wonwoo. He scanned the test, a grin widening across his face as he flipped through it. "There's no way I did this good. Did you give me bonus marks?"

"No. I don't give bonus marks. You deserved every mark I gave you."

"I couldn't have done it without your help,” Mingyu said. “You're so good at explaining things. Everything just makes sense when you teach me."

Mingyu's scent had turned warm and tender, pheromones thick with the sweetness of honey. This late in the evening, they were the only ones in the school, save for night custodians. Mingyu didn't have to worry about hiding his feelings from classmates, didn't have to worry that his beta teacher would discover his desire. Right now, with just the two of them, Mingyu could let the affection simmering beneath his skin seep out without repercussion. By tomorrow, any evidence of his feelings would have dissipated in the air.

Of course, Wonwoo wasn't aware of any of this.

Wonwoo returned Mingyu's smile. "That's sweet, Mingyu. I appreciate that. But at the end of the day, it comes down to the student. I could be the best teacher in the world, and there will still be students who fail my course. You're in my class for about three hours a week, which is not much at all. What you do on your own time makes a bigger difference than my teaching."

Mingyu hummed. “You’re not very good at accepting compliments, are you?”

“I can accept compliments,” Wonwoo protested. “I just think I play a smaller role in your success than you think I do.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never had a teacher that cared as much as you do. You’re so passionate about teaching. Everyone can see it. It makes me want to work harder,” Mingyu said in that earnest way only teenagers could. “You’re a really popular teacher, you know that?”

No, Wonwoo did not know that. He didn’t know that because after every single lesson he taught, he felt like he could have done better—should have done better. He second-guessed his lessons and activities. He dwelled on the students who gave him attitude and said to his face, “I would have done better if you actually _taught.”_

But here was Mingyu, offering genuine praise—students were always honest about teachers they liked and didn’t like—and validating hours of unpaid overtime, and both emotional and mental stress. 

A swell of affection rose in Wonwoo’s chest. His throat went tight, like there was a walnut lodged in it. He looked down at his lap, blinking hard. Mingyu’s words had left him speechless and without a single thought twirling through his mind. His brain was empty of any response, floating on Mingyu’s sweet words.

Mingyu cocked his head, tried to peer at his face. “Mr. Jeon? Are you—are you crying?”

Wonwoo huffed out a suspiciously wet laugh. He swiped at his eyes surreptitiously with his finger. “No. It’s just… I’ve had a very long day, and I’m a little tired.”

Mingyu made a small and soft noise in the back of his throat, something that sounded like coo. It was a sound that an alpha might use to comfort or reassure an omega, which was absolutely ridiculous, but it sent colour rushing up Wonwoo’s cheeks anyway. He shoved the intrusive thought away, reprimanding himself for even allowing something like that to cross his mind. 

_Get a grip,_ he told himself. _Mingyu is your_ student.

Mingyu shouldn’t be interacting with him like that, and Wonwoo had no business accepting his comfort.

In fact, he had probably imagined the sound, which upon further reflection, could have been an ‘aw’ or a giggle. After all, it wasn’t often that a student made their teacher cry from praise. Yeah. That made more sense. 

“See, that’s what I mean,” Mingyu said. “You’re tired, but you’re still here when everyone else has gone home.”

Wonwoo laughed softly. “Now you’re just flattering me. Maybe Junhui is right. Maybe you just want bonus marks from me.”

A grin pulled at the corners of Mingyu’s mouth. “Bonus marks? Nah, 38 out of 39 is good enough for me. I’m just flattering you.”

A small, answering smile curved on Wonwoo’s lips. 

They fell into silence for a few moments, Wonwoo wrestling his thoughts and all too conscious of Mingyu's eyes on him. Mingyu broke the silence first.

“Anyway, I should get going. Chaeyoung’s going to be mad if I don’t have dinner ready for her by seven,” Mingyu said, standing and gathering his belongings. “I didn’t mean to distract you from your work.”

“It’s okay. I needed the break.”

“Still, I’m sorry. If you’re here this late, it probably means you’re busy. I’ll leave so you can get some work done.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Okay, have a good night, Mingyu.”

“Bye, Mr. Jeon. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stay too late.”

Mingyu's footfalls faded away as he descended the stairs.

Wonwoo half-heartedly resumed marking tests, but his thoughts were a million miles away. He found himself skimming through answers without comprehending what he had read. His interaction with Mingyu had left him feeling wrong-footed, unable to focus. 

Halfway through marking a test, he decided that he was in no state of mind to do any work and set down his pen. He bundled up the stacks of papers and locked them in his cupboard. He slipped into his jacket, put his laptop into his bag, and closed the classroom door behind him.

He hadn’t realised how hot his face was until he stepped outside and the cold autumn air chilled his cheeks. Had Mingyu noticed, how red his face had been? Had Mingyu realised that he was the cause of it? It was inappropriate, for a teacher to blush because of their students, for a teacher to misconstrue compliments and sounds of exclamations that people made during normal conversation.

Wonwoo resolved to stop thinking about it, marching to the parking lot. Dumped his backpack in the trunk. He drove westward, where an entire strip was devoted to restaurants. Kept the windows down to cool his face, even though the night breeze was frigid. 

He ordered a bowl of laksa from his favourite noodle soup place. The spicy coconut soup warmed his insides, brought heat back to his icicle fingers. As he ate, he scrolled through his phone and did not think about Mingyu. Or he tried not to, at least. For some reason, it was harder than it had any right to be. His mind kept drifting off in Mingyu’s direction despite his efforts to keep his thoughts corralled in a safe area.

It was normal, Wonwoo told himself, to be hung up on compliments. Everyone wanted their hard work validated, and he was no different. He was a sucker for praise through and through, just like every other omega out there. Especially when that praise came from an alpha who Wonwoo found rather—

Wonwoo choked on a spoonful of broth. Yanked a napkin free of the dispenser and hacked into it. Hot liquid and spice and lemongrass shot up his nose, sending his eyes streaming.

“Are you okay, sir?” a waitress asked, refilling his tea.

Wonwoo, mouth still smothered by a napkin, nodded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed this update. If you did, your comments and kudos would be very appreciated (´꒳`)♡
> 
> Bonus crumbs: [What if Wonwoo had attended Mingyu's soccer game?](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/post/643140790957359104/no-wait-but-i-am-imagining-mingyu-playing-soccer)
> 
> Come chat with me on [tumblr](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/)! There, you'll find more of my writing, MinWon fic ideas, and my writerly thoughts. I would love to scream with you, either about SVT or writing!


	4. November: Part One

Mina and Wonwoo shared a prep block, so on the days they had the morning period to plan and prepare for their classes, Mina often came up to his classroom to work. Their intent was always to plan lessons or mark tests, but their time was seldom used as productively as it could have been. Somehow, their conversations would go off on a tangent and they would spend the majority of the period talking about the latest book they had read, or complaining about their students. It meant more work for both of them later, but Wonwoo valued her company nonetheless. 

“Good morning,” Mina said as she entered his classroom. “I bought you breakfast.” She handed Wonwoo a cup of coffee and a brown pastry bag.

“Mina! You shouldn’t have.” Wonwoo brought the coffee to his nose. The nutty aroma rose up to fill his nostrils. Already, he felt more awake. He peeked inside the bag and found a taro and coconut pastry, with slivered almonds on top—his favourite. “Let me pay you back.”

Mina waved away his offer. “Don’t worry about it.” When Wonwoo opened his mouth to protest, she shut him up with a glare. “We can spend the whole block arguing about it, or we can try to get some work done.”

Wonwoo took a quiet bite out of his pastry.

Mina nodded, satisfied. “That’s what I thought.” She took a seat at one of the student desks, and then took out a stack of brochures that looked like some sort of menu project. “What do you have to work on this morning?”

Wonwoo finished chewing and swallowing before replying, “I have a stack of quizzes to mark for my Physics 11 classes. Hoping to get that done this morning.”

“I have some marking to get done, too,” Mina said. She sighed. “The marking just never ends.”

Wonwoo thought that students and teachers alike would have time to relax after interim reports, but the demands of the curriculum were relentless. Midterm season was a mere three weeks away, and after that, report cards. Pointe Pledis was an academic and performance oriented school, and the tension in the air was palpable. Anxiety levels ran high, a sense of panic and apprehension thrumming through each grade. Students who had spent the beginning of the year slacking off and skipping classes were spurred by the scathing comments on their interim reports and hustled to improve their marks before report cards.

They worked quietly for the first half hour, only breaking the silence to ask each other for input on how many partial marks to award their students.

At some point, Mina's attention wandered. She stretched her arms overhead and looked around, her eyes landing on the whiteboard. She giggled and commented, "Sounds like someone has a crush."

Written in bold, red letters was: SIGN UP TO KISS XU MINGHAO. That was Mingyu's handwriting. Underneath that, WEN JUNHUI. Also Mingyu's writing. Poor Junhui spent part of every physics class being teased by Mingyu and Seungcheol, and no amount of fuming and swearing on Junhui's part would convince the other two alphas to ease off.

Wonwoo huffed out a laugh. "I didn't even notice that." 

He stood up to erase Mingyu's writing, but knew that it would be back on the board the next day. He sympathised with Minghao, whose face turned splotchy with anger when his eyes landed on Mingyu and Seungcheol, who, in turn, obnoxiously waggled their brows at him, and Junhui, who had melted into his seat and looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him. Wonwoo should probably talk to Mingyu and Seungcheol about it. There was a fine line between teasing your friends and humiliating them.

"Who wrote that? One of your seniors?"

"Yeah. Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?"

Mina wrinkled her nose. "Oh, yeah. Him. He's in my Japanese language class. He's got a bit of a stinky attitude, doesn't he?"

"Does he?" Wonwoo asked, surprised. "Kim Mingyu? The really tall kid with the alpha canines?" He held his hand over his head, roughly showing how tall Mingyu was. "The soccer player?"

Mina nodded. "Yeah, I find him to be really disrespectful. And honestly, after talking with his mom, I kind of see where he gets it from."

"You spoke to his mom?"

"We exchanged a few emails," Mina said. "He's always talking at the back of my class and he doesn't keep his voice down. He gets irritated with me when I tell him to focus on his work, or to stop shoving people around in my class. I feel like these are basic, reasonable requests, so I don't know where the attitude is coming from."

"He can be quite noisy," Wonwoo said, unsure if they were talking about the same person. He couldn't imagine Mingyu talking while he was lecturing. In fact, Mingyu was the student who yelled at his classmates to shut up and show some respect if they were conversing while Wonwoo delivered a lesson. But Wonwoo could see how Mingyu's willingness to speak up and defend might translate to bluster in a different class.

Mina snorted. “That’s an understatement. But, yeah, he’s been doing pretty much zero work in my class. He keeps saying that he’ll do it home, but that’s not acceptable, you know?”

“Right,” Wonwoo agreed. “You can’t just do nothing in class.”

“Exactly,” Mina said. “So I emailed his mom and she goes off on me, saying stuff like how this wasn’t a problem for any of Mingyu’s other teachers; how I should make my lessons more engaging so that her son would want to learn, and stuff like that. She implied that Mingyu wasn’t listening to me because he didn’t respect me, and that I needed to earn his respect. You should have seen the tone of her email. She sounded so entitled.” Mina fumed.

“Holy,” Wonwoo said. “Way to make someone feel shitty. She sounds awful.”

“Right?” Mina huffed. “And then she ended her email by saying that she doesn’t have the time to teach me how to do my job. I think she’s a bigshot at some massive investment firm, or something. Last month, we wrote an essay about our families, and Mingyu wrote about how his parents were really busy people who weren’t home a lot.”

“Oh, that’s a little sad.” Someone like Mingyu thrived on physical touch and emotional connection. Wonwoo imagined Mingyu going home to an empty building, and it made his heart twist. 

Mina nodded glumly. Now that she had finished venting, she had deflated, slumping into her seat. “It is sad. It explains a lot about his behaviour. He needs a lot of attention.”

“Maybe his parents are the type who think throwing money at their children is an acceptable substitute for love,” Wonwoo said. That wasn’t uncommon, especially in a school like Pointe Pledis.

“Stop, you’re making me feel bad for him.” Mina pouted. “He’s been a jerk to me.”

“Sorry,” Wonwoo chuckled.

“Anyway,” Mina said, “how is he in physics?”

"He's good," Wonwoo said carefully. "He doesn't really have a choice but to pay attention in physics. If he misses even a minute, he'll be lost for the remainder of the class. It helps that he sits with two of his friends who are pretty strong students." Wonwoo didn't mention how eager and hardworking a student Mingyu was, how polite and eager to please Wonwoo had found him to be.

"That's true. I've got a bunch of soccer kids in that class, and they're unbearable when they're together. It drives me—" Mina was interrupted by a knock at the door. She clamped her lips shut, expression turning into one of embarrassment when she saw who was at the door.

"Mingyu!" Wonwoo said. He wondered when Mingyu had gotten there, if he had heard any part of their conversation.

"Hi, Mr. Jeon," Mingyu greeted. His eyes flickered to Mina. His face was inscrutable. "Hi, Ms. Myoui."

"Hello, Mingyu," Mina said. She was blushing, the colour high on her cheeks. "You had your game against JYP Secondary over the weekend, didn't you? How did that go?"

"It was fine," Mingyu answered. "We won."

"That's wonderful! Congratulations," Mina said.

Wonwoo said, "I heard the senior soccer team is undefeated this season. That's amazing. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it to your game." He could have. He was going to, but in the end, he had chosen not to. He knew nothing about soccer and wasn't interested in the sport. If he attended a game because a student he was fond of invited him to one… There were too many implications surrounding that.

"That's okay, Mr. Jeon. I know you're busy." Mingyu smiled at him. "Um, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Wonwoo shook his head. "No, no. But don't you have class right now?"

"Yeah, I'm in English class right now, but I finished my work early and asked Mr. Chwe if I could get some help from you."

"Yes, of course." Wonwoo made room on his desk for Mingyu to set his textbook down.

“I’m working on number nine,” Mingyu said, showing Wonwoo the question. “I keep getting it wrong and I don’t know why. I thought I understood what I was doing, but I guess not.”

Wonwoo skimmed over Mingyu's work. "You do know what you're doing. You just made a sign error.” He pointed out the mistake. “Everything after that is correct."

Mingyu planted a hand on Wonwoo's desk, leaning over his shoulder to take a look. Wonwoo curled into himself, made himself small. He was far too conscious of how close they were. He could smell the musk of the cologne Mingyu was wearing. Warmth radiated off Mingyu's body as though he were a human furnace. To Wonwoo's relief, Mingyu pulled away a second later, groaning. "What! Are you serious? That's so dumb."

Wonwoo laughed. "Those are the kind of mistakes you want to make. They're much easier to fix than a conceptual error."

"I guess," Mingyu grumbled.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, that's it. Thank you, Mr. Jeon. I'm going to head back to class now," Mingyu said. As he was exiting through the door, he said, "Oh, I'll probably be in your classroom at lunch."

"Okay, bye-bye, Mingyu. I'll see you soon," Wonwoo said.

Mina waited until Mingyu was gone before speaking, “He seems to like you a lot.”

“Really?” Wonwoo adjusted his glasses with the knuckle of forefinger.

"Yeah," Mina said, but she didn't elaborate. She returned her attention to her marking.

The lack of explanation unsettled Wonwoo. He wondered what Mina saw in that thirty second interaction. Had she seen a student in need of help, and a teacher doing their job? Or had her omega senses detected something that Wonwoo was not aware of? Maybe she was concerned about how close Mingyu had stood next to him.

Wonwoo blew out a breath. He was reading too much into it. Mingyu had asked a question; he had answered it. That was it. There was nothing for Mina to misinterpret. The only reason why this was worrying Wonwoo at all, the only reason why he was hyper conscious of Mingyu's presence was because— 

Well.

Mingyu was attractive.

 _Shit,_ Wonwoo thought. _Shit, shit, shit._

Then, he looked down at his hands.

Okay. So, Mingyu was attractive. So what?

It was fine. He was fine. He remembered Jeonghan's words: that these things sometimes happened when teachers and students were close in age. The senior boys were starting to look like men, and anyone with eyes could see that Mingyu was handsome. The emotionally vulnerable nature of a student-teacher relationship made it the perfect breeding ground for a crush. But as long as Wonwoo maintained professional boundaries and never acted on his attraction, there was no reason for him to feel guilty.

  
  
  


But now that Wonwoo had admitted his attraction to himself, it seemed to be all he could think about, all he could notice.

Wonwoo stepped away from the whiteboards, moving to the side of the classroom to get out of the way. All three whiteboards at the front of the classroom were filled with diagrams and equations. Wonwoo swept his gaze over the class. Students were hunched over their desks, scrambling to copy everything down in their notes.

Mingyu was the only student who wasn't scratching away in his notebook. He was studying the board with intense concentration, eyes tracking left and right beneath strong brows. He wasn't much of a notetaker. Wonwoo had spoken to him about the importance of taking notes in class, but Mingyu had said that he preferred to listen during lectures, and write his own set of notes at home later. He claimed that he understood the material better that way. Wonwoo couldn't complain since the work was being done, and it seemed to be working well for Mingyu, who was getting one of the top marks in his class.

Mingyu shifted. Extended his arms over head in a long and languid stretch, a small groan escaping him. The front of his shirt rode up, revealing a strip of his tanned stomach, which was taut with muscle. Of their own accord, Wonwoo's eyes flickered to the exposed skin. A trail of hair starting below Mingyu's navel disappeared beneath the elastic of his boxers. Distantly, Wonwoo was aware of himself swallowing.

Mingyu settled back into his seat with a sigh. He folded his arms across his chest. The short sleeves of his uniform hugged his rounded biceps. He was an athlete, and it showed. It was impossible not to notice; compared to other alphas of his age, Mingyu was far more physically developed.

Realising that his thoughts were veering off into inappropriate territory, Wonwoo tore his eyes away. Wondering if he had been caught staring, he peeked at Mingyu.

Wonwoo's heart stopped beating for a terrifying second. His stomach plunged. Because Mingyu was looking right back at him, eyes dark. A smug, knowing smirk curled his lips. The smile widened into a grin when Wonwoo felt heat rising beneath his collar to bloom over his neck and cheeks. His skin was damnably pale, and he knew that the bright white lights of the classroom highlighted any change in his complexion. Wonwoo whipped away to face the whiteboard, heart thudding, face growing even hotter when he heard a soft snort of amusement behind him.

Mingyu had seen him.

What the fuck was that? _What the fuck was that?_

Had Mingyu done that on purpose? Maybe he knew that Wonwoo was attracted to him and was using that knowledge to tease and taunt him. Perhaps the innocent stretch wasn't so innocent, after all.

Wonwoo's hands shook. Under Mingyu’s attention, the skin on the back of his neck prickled. Had anyone else seen him checking Mingyu out?

No. They couldn't have. They were copying down notes, struggling to make sense of line after line of equations. And in the off-chance they had been watching him, they wouldn't have been able to tell who or what Wonwoo was looking at. They could not know that his eyes landed on the elastic of Mingyu’s boxers.

Wonwoo clutched the marker in his hand. He popped off the cap, fumbling with it. The cap slipped from his fingers and onto the floor with a clack, rolling away from him. Wonwoo scurried after it, scooping it up and attaching it to the end of the marker. Jesus Christ, he was a flustered mess.

A bumbling, flustered, slightly turned-on mess.

The wicked leer Mingyu had fixed him with had arousal stirring low in his gut. Thank God he was stuffed up on inhibitors and slathered in a scent-blocking lotion. If he weren't, he had no doubt that the entire class would have caught the scent of his embarrassed arousal. Maybe they wouldn't understand it at first. They would wonder who the hell was getting horny in a physics class, and the last person they would suspect was their teacher, who ought to have better control over their pheromones by now. But Mingyu would know, and Mingyu would— 

Wonwoo slammed the brake on his thoughts. He took a breath, held it in his chest for four beats, and then exhaled slowly. The entire blunder had taken place in half a minute, which was the perfect amount of time for students to catch up.

Wonwoo made quick work of erasing the whiteboard. Thankfully, his voice came out strong and steady when he said, "Alright. I have one last example to share with you, and then you can have a bit of time to get started on your homework."

He felt Mingyu's eyes following him as he moved through the classroom, weighing upon him like a physical thing. He talked and talked and Mingyu listened, attention riveted to him. It was Mingyu’s job to listen; Wonwoo was his teacher. But this attention didn't feel innocent. No student gaze made Wonwoo feel like he was going to be eaten alive.

For once, Wonwoo wished Mingyu would get distracted. Look at his phone, or whisper to Seungcheol, or something. Anything, to give Wonwoo a bit of space to breathe.

With minutes to spare before the end of class, students started to pack up, jamming books and fluttering papers into their bags. Wonwoo reminded them of their homework, and then dismissed them. Some students thanked him on the way out, and Wonwoo thanked them in return; others filed out without giving him a single glance.

Mingyu slung his backpack over one shoulder and approached Wonwoo. He had one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his trousers. An innocuous smile curved on his lips. Wonwoo’s belly squirmed.

"That was a really good lesson today, Mr. Jeon," Mingyu said.

Wonwoo stammered out a thank you, not quite able to meet Mingyu's eyes.

"See you at lunch," Mingyu said, trotting out of the classroom as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  


The next morning was blessedly Mingyu-free: a prep block spent with Mina, followed by Physics 11. 

"Thanks everyone for your work today. Remember that we have a quiz next day. Feel free to stay behind to get a bit more help if you need it," Wonwoo said, dismissing his Physics 11 students for lunch. None of his students took him up on his offer, scrambling out of the door to beat the cafeteria rush. Wonwoo couldn't even be mad at them; he was exactly the same when he was in high school.

He wiped down the whiteboard and then left his classroom to use the washroom. The hallways were packed with students talking, laughing, and shouting greetings to friends. Alphas greeted their friends by shoving each other into lockers with a metallic bang; it seemed that even the well-bred students of Pointe Pledis were subject to their primordial impulses. A student dashed past him, shoes squeaking across the linoleum flooring, ignoring a teacher who yelled, "No running in the hallways!"

Wonwoo weaved through a cluster of kids standing in the middle of the corridor, and then escaped to the boys washroom.

"Hi, Mr. Jeon!" Mingyu shouted. He was leaning against the sink, surrounded by four other boys whom Wonwoo had seen around the school, but had never taught himself.

"Oh, hi, Mingyu," Wonwoo said.

It was always a little awkward meeting one of his students in the washroom, especially when they both stood at the sinks washing their hands and felt obligated to make small talk. It could be avoided if Wonwoo made the trek to the first floor where the staff washrooms were located, but he couldn't be bothered.

And anyway, Mingyu wasn't the worst student to bump into outside of class. Wonwoo rather liked seeing Mingyu.

"Hi, Mr. Jeon!" Another student chirped, with enthusiasm equal to Mingyu's.

Wonwoo blinked. "Hello. I don’t think we’ve ever met."

“I’m Sunghoon,” the student said.

“It’s good to meet you, Sunghoon,” Wonwoo said.

"Mr. Jeon,” Sunghoon started, “did you know that Mingyu has a crush on you?”

“What?” Mingyu laughed. “I do not.”

“Yeah, you do. You’re always saying stuff like, ‘Mr. Jeon is so good at teaching,’ or ‘Mr. Jeon has such good style,’ or ‘I wonder if Mr. Jeon has a mate’...”

The smile dropped from Mingyu’s face. “Seriously, dude. Shut up.”

“Oh!” Sunghoon perked up. “Remember that time I was like, ‘How much would I have to pay you to suck Mr. Jeon’s dick?’”

“Hey, you should shut the fuck up now,” Mingyu said, at the same time Wonwoo said, “Sunghoon, this kind of talk is inappropriate.”

Sunghoon ignored them and continued, “And you were like, ‘Mr. Jeon? Dude, I’d _pay_ to suck his’—” 

He had barely gotten the sentence out when Mingyu slammed into him, crushing him against the far wall. The movement was so sudden and violent that Wonwoo startled and leapt backwards.

Sunghoon howled with laughter despite the fact that his face was smashed against the wall and Mingyu had twisted his arm behind him. "Holy fuck, you are so obvious," he crowed. "You wanna fuck—"

His words broke off with a strangled noise when Mingyu wrapped a forearm around his neck, forcing him into a chokehold. Sunghoon's face grew red and strained as his airway was cut off. He gasped for a breath, but Mingyu refused to loosen his hold. Sunghoon's clawed fingers scrabbled at Mingyu's forearms.

"I—can't—breathe—" Sunghoon lashed out blindly behind him, his fist catching Mingyu in the jaw. Mingyu was unfazed, lips drawn back over his teeth in a snarl.

It took Wonwoo a moment to regain himself, and then he was jamming his shoulders between Mingyu and Sunghoon in an attempt to break them apart.

"Mingyu!" Wonwoo cried, trying to tug Mingyu's arm away. Mingyu's forearm was as hard as steel, the muscles jumping and flexing. Wonwoo's attempts to prise Mingyu off were ineffective; Mingyu hadn't even seemed to notice his presence. Wonwoo may as well have been a buzzing fly. "Mingyu, stop it! Get off him!"

To his surprise, Mingyu obeyed. 

Mingyu shoved Sunghoon away, causing him to stumble back into a urinal partition, which rattled in its frame.

Sunghoon was red-faced and breathing hard, shoulders heaving up and down with each inhale and exhale. His shirt had come untucked, the front of it wrinkled where Mingyu had gripped him. His tie was askew. "What the fuck was that for, Kim? Overreacting, much?"

"Fuck you, asshole," Mingyu spat, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing with rage. “Leave Mr. Jeon out of this.” The colour blazed high on his cheeks. His fists clenched and unclenched at his side, still geared up for a fight. He would have lunged for the boy if Wonwoo wasn't holding him at bay with both hands on his chest. 

Sunghoon’s eyes flickered between Mingyu and Wonwoo, then landed where Wonwoo’s hands were splayed across Mingyu’s chest. “Wow. You really are whipped for Mr. Jeon, aren’t you? Do you think about him when you’re fucking Momo?”

A growl reverberated through Mingyu’s chest. "You’re pathetic. Are you still mad that Momo rejected you? Get over it. It’s been more than a year."

"Boys," Wonwoo said sharply. “Stop this!” His own heart was pounding in his chest. His ears rung. He wasn't quite sure what had happened. One moment, Mingyu was the bright model student, and the next, he was throttling another boy. It went against everything Wonwoo knew about the younger alpha.

The commotion had drawn the curiosity of other students, who flocked to the washroom entrance to observe the fight. Someone must have notified a teacher about what was happening, because Joshua was shoving his way through the crowd.

Wonwoo stepped away from Mingyu.

"What's going on in here?" Joshua demanded. His eyes swung from Mingyu and the other student, taking in their disheveled appearances. He turned to the students and blocked the doorway with outstretched arms. "Get back to your classrooms," he ordered.

Wonwoo flushed. Clearing the area was the first thing he should have done, but he was so shocked that he had forgotten his duties as a teacher.

Students shuffled, glancing at each other, at Joshua, at Mingyu and Sunghoon. No one left, their morbid fascination keeping them glued to the scene. They were like drivers who rubbernecked as they passed by a car accident, interested in someone else's misfortune.

"Get back to your classrooms," Joshua barked. And this time, there was a dangerous edge to Joshua's voice. Despite all the inhibitors Wonwoo was taking, he felt Joshua's alpha Voice deep in his omega core. It made him want to flee, but he kept his feet firmly planted despite his desire to scurry away with the students.

Once the students had dispersed, Joshua asked, "Mr. Jeon, what happened here?"

"These two students got into an argument. It became physical," Wonwoo said.

Mingyu cut in, "We weren't fighting. We were having a disagreement—"

"Be quiet," Joshua commanded, and Mingyu did so, falling into a grudging and sullen silence.

"This kind of behaviour is shameful and unacceptable. I expect better from students of Pointe Pledis," Joshua said. "Both of you, follow me." He turned on his heel. Mingyu and the other boy trailed obediently after him with their tails between their legs, like scolded puppies.

Wonwoo stood there, hands shaking and heart racing. It had all happened so fast that his brain had yet to catch up. He returned to his classroom in a daze, wondering how the hell pleasant greetings had deteriorated into a brawl. He shut the door and wobbled to his chair, dropping down onto it. 

He turned the events leading up to the fight over in his head. He had thought Mingyu and Sunghoon were friends—they were spending lunch together, after all. When Wonwoo first entered, there seemed to be no animosity between them. Sunghoon’s resentment toward Mingyu must have been brewing for a while. Perhaps a year, judging by what Mingyu said.

And then there was Mingyu’s supposed crush on him. Not the small, innocent crush of admiration. But something darker and sexual. According to Sunghoon, Mingyu wanted to fuck him. Maybe even pretended that it was Wonwoo beneath him when he was rutting into Momo. It should have disgusted Wonwoo that his student was thinking of him in this way, but it didn’t.

Wonwoo scrubbed his hands over his face. His cheeks were burning. He felt hot under the collar. In his belly. Everywhere.

God help him, he was turned on. 

He wasn’t the kind of omega who was attracted to aggression but… 

He thought about how he had held Mingyu back. Mingyu was barely restrained energy under his palms, the muscles of his chest tightly coiled. Wonwoo had no doubt Mingyu—who had forty pounds and two inches on him—could have easily batted him aside, but he didn’t. Maybe it was because they were in school and Wonwoo was his teacher. Or, Wonwoo’s lizard brain thought, maybe it was because he was deferring to someone he was attracted to. Like how even the biggest and strongest of alphas would roll over to bare their belly for an omega they were sweet on.

Wonwoo whimpered. His pants felt tight. He was starting to get hard. 

What was wrong with him? Two failures as a teacher within five minutes: first, he wasn’t able to break up a fight. And now he was getting it up because of a student? He could blame it on the adrenaline, the shock of seeing Mingyu’s alpha nature up close. But the truth was that he was drawn to Mingyu, in a way a teacher should not be drawn to their student.

It was so wrong, and yet he couldn’t stop himself.

He thought of Mingyu, who easily subdued another alpha. Mingyu, who apparently thought he was kind of cute. Mingyu, who would apparently pay to suck his dick. Wonwoo reached between his legs and squeezed himself, finding his cock erect. A moan shuddered out of his parted lips. 

_I can’t. Not here. Not at school,_ Wonwoo thought helplessly, even as his fingers twitched over his zipper. The light brush sent tiny sparks of electricity racing through his veins. 

But what choice did he have? The bell was going to ring in less than ten minutes, and he couldn’t stand up in front of a class to teach while sporting a hard-on.

Wonwoo glanced at the classroom door, which was shut. It locked automatically, so no one could intrude, unless he let them in. 

Biting down on his lower lip, Wonwoo unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. He carried a tube of lotion in his bag, which he took out now, popping open the cap and squeezing it into his palm. He reached under the elastic of his boxers, hissing when he curled his fingers around his length. Thank god for his inhibitors. Otherwise, he would be leaking in his pants and getting his juices all over his chair. 

It wasn’t like him to take these kinds of risks; he never got so unbearably horny that he couldn’t wait until arriving home. He didn’t take risks, period. But the thrill of the fight buzzed under his skin and guilt warred in his chest, a heady rush that filled his brain and pushed out all rational thought. The knowledge that he was in a public space that valued ethics and morals and discipline made his arousal that much sharper. 

He pulled at his cock, rough and hurried. He refused to think of Mingyu, focusing instead on the friction of his hand working over his cock. Chased his release, which dangled so close he could taste it on his tongue. Soon, students would be coming in from lunch; a teacher could knock at his door, wanting a few quick words with him before class. He couldn’t be caught with his cock out. His climax built in his belly, propelled to a crest by a sense of urgency. In less than a minute, he curled over himself and came with a strangled cry into a tissue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept going back and forth with this chapter, and I'm still not entirely sure I made the right decision with it. Originally, Wonwoo was not supposed to jerk off in his classroom, and Mingyu was not supposed to get into a fight; I was going to show a hint of his crush through a conversation with his friends:
>
>> "Fuck you, Soonyoung," Mingyu said with a laugh. He was unfazed, whereas most students would have be flustered at their crush being outed. "Who doesn't have a crush on Mr. Jeon, though? He's the best teacher in the school."
>> 
>> Seungcheol nodded in agreement. "Half the people in our grade have a crush on him."
> 
> [You can read the rest of this scene on my tumblr](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/post/642300595430129664/aev-deleted-scene-from-chapter-4). I'm curious as to which version people like better.
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed this chapter, please leave some love and share your thoughts ♡ ♡ ♡


	5. November: Part Two

The morning following the fight, before classes started, Joshua knocked at Wonwoo’s door and entered. 

“Three months into your first year of teaching, and you already got to break up a fight,” Joshua said, taking a seat on the corner of Wonwoo’s desk. He fiddled with the markers in the pencil holder. “Lucky you.”

Wonwoo laughed, ducking his head. “I don’t feel like I was much help. I was so shocked, I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I’m glad you were there.”

“Your presence helped,” Joshua said. “Plus I saw you holding Mingyu back. If you hadn’t been there, they might have started throwing punches. They’re lucky they didn’t. They might’ve been suspended otherwise, and Mingyu could say good-bye to his scholarship.” He tilted his head and hummed thoughtfully. Then he said, “Well, maybe not Mingyu, since he has a clean record and good grades. But Sunghoon? Pretty likely he’d face an in-school suspension, at the least.”

“So neither of them are going to be punished?”

“Oh, they’ll be punished. Pointe Pledis takes discipline very seriously,” Joshua said. “Mingyu’s soccer coach cut his practice time on the field, which probably hurts Mingyu more than anything else. Sunghoon’s out for basketball for the rest of the year, but that’s probably for the best since he needs to focus on his grades. And you won’t see either of them for the rest of the week. They’re out doing community service.”

“Kind of like a suspension,” Wonwoo said.

“Yeah,” Joshua said. “But it won’t go on their record, and they won’t have to disclose it if universities ask if they’ve been suspended or expelled.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I see. Well, that sounds like the best possible outcome for both boys.”

“Yep.” Joshua slid off Wonwoo’s desk and smoothed out the wrinkles in his trousers. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you.”

“M-hm,” Joshua said. “Oh, and Wonwoo? If Mingyu ever acts inappropriately towards you or makes you feel uncomfortable, let me know, okay? Me or Jeonghan or admin.”

Wonwoo swallowed. “Okay,” he said. He couldn’t help but add, “Mingyu’s been great so far, though. He’s a good student and works hard in class. I, personally, don’t have any complaints about him.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that,” Joshua said, and then departed with a wave.

  
  
  


Wonwoo’s morning Physics 12 class felt strangely quiet and empty without Mingyu there. Mingyu was only one person, but he possessed the energy of ten; he also required the same amount of attention that ten students did. Without Mingyu asking him questions every five minutes, Wonwoo felt oddly lost. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, scanning the classroom, ready to attend to any student who needed help.

If he was honest, he missed Mingyu. A little. 

But when Mingyu returned to school the next Monday, Wonwoo hardly noticed. 

He had woken up that morning fine, but a pounding in his skull started up during first period. He passed it off as a minor headache, not worth skipping a day of work for. 

It had gotten progressively worse over the course of the school day. He felt light headed and sluggish, as he though he were standing at the end of a long corridor. Each interaction registered in his mind as an echo: two seconds too late. He had trouble focusing, stumbling on his words and making calculation errors every few minutes. Each time, his students patiently pointed out his mistakes.

Wonwoo, however, did not extend the same courtesy to his students. Found his well of patience running dry. Every voice sounded too loud, grated on his nerves. At one point, he stopped dead in the middle of lecture and said to Chaeyoung, “You can be quiet, or you can get out of my class.” He regretted those words as soon as they came out of his mouth, especially when confronted with Chaeyoung’s hurt expression. There were a hundred ways to phrase the sentiment. He wished it hadn’t come out like that. 

Even Mingyu was not spared from his ire. As usual, Mingyu came to his room during lunch to get caught up in the material he missed. Question after question after question. Wonwoo wanted to set his forehead down on his desk, feel the blessed coolness of the wood on his skin. For some reason, his conversation with Mingyu had agitation and something else tangling up tight in his belly. 

Eventually, he said to Mingyu, voice coming out more curt than he intended, “Mingyu, please check the class website. That’s what it’s for.” He regretted saying that, too, but he felt like he had a limited number of words left in him, and there were still three hours to go in the school day.

“Oh, okay. I’ll do that,” Mingyu said. Then, tentatively, with concern apparent in his voice, he asked, “Are you okay, Mr. Jeon? You seem out of it.”

Wonwoo waved him off. “I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” Which was untrue. He had slept longer than he had in weeks, passing out at 9 PM, the moment his head hit the pillow.

Finally, the school day crawled to an end.

The last student left his classroom with a, “Bye, Mr. Jeon!” and was gone before Wonwoo could register and return the farewell.

Wonwoo closed the classroom door. Usually, other teachers poked their heads in at the end of the day to chat or vent, but he wasn’t up to having any company tonight. With a groan, he slumped into his chair. He dropped his face into open palms, massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers.

Perhaps, he admitted, it wasn’t just a minor headache after all. Maybe he was getting sick, the hours of overtime he pulled to mark midterms and complete report cards for seven classes finally taking their toll on his body. 

This felt different, though. There was no niggling his throat, which was usually the first sign of getting sick. No weakness in his muscles, nor chills. In fact, he was feeling rather overheated. There was a tingling at the base of his spine. He felt hot and sensitive and itchy under his collar, sweat collecting under his arms and low at his back. This was rare for him. He often ran cold, fingers and toes like blocks of ice even during the summer months.

Maybe it was the stress. That would explain his irritation and the elevated pulse in his throat. 

Wonwoo tugged at his tie, loosening the knot. He unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt and shook out his collar, trying to create a cooling breeze. The skin of his neck itched. Everywhere itched. The stiff fabric of his dress shirt was itchy and rough on his skin. It was so goddamn hot. The school was blasting the heat. He was tempted to shuck his tie and lose his shirt.

He decided to take the day off tomorrow, just in case. Knock out whatever cold or fever was starting to develop. 

Luckily, he had already printed out all the materials for tomorrow. He didn’t think he could make the trek to the photocopying room right now. He entered his absence into the system, then began typing up notes for the substitute teacher.

He was part way through writing up a lesson plan when two knocks sounded at his door. Annoyance flashed through him. Who the hell took a closed door as an invitation? With a huff, he pulled the door open, finding Mingyu on the other side. And just like that, his irritation dissolved.

He shouldn’t be so easy, but he was.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon,” Mingyu said. “I hope I’m not bothering you. Is it alright if I come in?”

“Of course.” Wonwoo stepped aside.

Mingyu shut the door behind him with a soft click. Wonwoo should have told him to leave it open. It gave people the wrong idea, a teacher and a student meeting behind closed doors. 

Instead, Wonwoo asked, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Mingyu shook his head. “No, I just came to see how you were doing. You didn’t seem like yourself today.”

Mingyu seemed different today, too. Wonwoo couldn’t put a finger on it. They stood with a mere foot of distance between them. Wonwoo could smell him: a masculine mint and sage that soothed his frayed nerves. Wonwoo liked the smell. He swayed slightly on his feet, fighting the urge to pitch forward and bury his nose into—

Startled into alertness by the direction of his thoughts, Wonwoo wheeled away. Made a wobbly retreat to the safety of his desk and dropped onto his rolling office chair. Mingyu followed him.

“Mr. Jeon? Are you okay?”

It was a beat before Wonwoo answered. “I’m fine.”

Mingyu frowned.

Wonwoo amended, “Just feeling a little off. I think I’m getting sick. I’m going to take the day off tomorrow.”

Mingyu cocked his head, as though something had caught his attention. He sniffed. “Do you smell that?”

Wonwoo was wondering the same thing. Had Mingyu always smelled this good? Wonwoo had never noticed. He should have. Heat prickled over his skin, simmered in his blood. He had the strange idea that he would feel better if Mingyu just stood a little closer.

Wonwoo’s brows furrowed. He couldn’t seem to remember what Mingyu had asked him. The question had slipped through his mind like smoke. “I’m sorry, what?”

Mingyu shook his head. “It’s nothing. I think I’m imagining things.” He continued, “So you’re not feeling well? Is that all?”

“What do you mean?”

Minyu cleared his throat. “I mean… I noticed you seemed tired and quiet today. And we, uh—” He swallowed; Wonwoo’s eyes followed the bobbing of his throat. “—didn’t really talk much. And I guess… I guess I was wondering if it was because you’re feeling sick, or if it was because of me.”

“Huh?” Wonwoo said. “Why would it be because of you?

Mingyu grimaced. “You know, because of what Sunghoon said.”

“Oh.”

“Sunghoon’s full of crap,” Mingyu said. “He’s been trying to pick fights with me ever since I started dating Momo. He asked her out last year but she turned him down, because she liked me instead. He thinks I stole her from him, but she was the one who asked me out. So, yeah. High school shit.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu nodded. Stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “So I wouldn’t believe anything he says. I like you, Mr. Jeon, but not like _that._ I’m sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable.”

It was for the best that Mingyu didn’t have a crush on him. Nothing could come of it.

Wonwoo knew all of this, and yet Mingyu’s words replayed in his head— _I like you, Mr. Jeon, but not like_ that—and it twisted like rejection in his gut.

He shut his eyes. Slid his fingers beneath his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. His emotions were all over the place today. He needed to get home. 

“You don’t have to apologise for someone else’s actions,” he said, carefully pronouncing each word. His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth. If anything, it was him who should be apologising for thinking of Mingyu in a way no teacher should think of their student. “But thank you.”

Mingyu cracked a smile. “Someone has to do it, since Sunghoon won’t. Are you sure I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable?”

“I’m sure,” Wonwoo said.

Relief cut through Mingyu’s scent. “Okay. That’s good. I was kind of worried today, to be honest. I thought I scared you or something.”

Wonwoo laughed softly. “No, not at all. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

They lapsed into silence.

Mingyu spoke first. “So, you’re taking the day off tomorrow?”

Wonwoo nodded. “It’s probably nothing serious, but just in case.” He hoped it was nothing serious. But in the few minutes he had been chatting with Mingyu, it felt like the temperature had gone up ten degrees in the classroom. It was getting harder to concentrate and string together a coherent sentence. 

“That’s a good idea. Better to be safe than sorry,” Mingyu said. “Class will be pretty lame without you, though.”

What a sweet alpha, after Wonwoo’s heart. He tipped his face up to smile at Mingyu. Wondered when Mingyu had gotten so close. “It’ll only be for a day.”

“You should take as long as you need. You work so hard…” Mingyu’s voice had turned liquid slow and smooth, intoxicating. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo agreed muzzily. “I’ll think about taking an extra day off.” Those last words came out slurred, as though he were drunk. 

“You’re all red, Mr. Jeon. Maybe you’re developing a fever.” 

Wonwoo pressed a palm to his forehead.

Mingyu clucked his tongue, chiding. “You can’t take your own temperature like that. Here, let me…” Gingerly, he reached out to rest the back of his hand on Wonwoo’s forehead.

Something inside Wonwoo unclenched at first contact. A quiet and shuddering sigh escaped him. His eyelids fluttered shut. Mingyu’s hand was a single point of coolness on his overheated body. Wonwoo leaned into the touch, seeking relief.

That was nice. Like experiencing a cool breeze off the ocean on an otherwise blistering hot day.

“Oh…” Mingyu’s voice went rough. “Oh, Mr. Jeon…” He turned over his hand so that he could cup Wonwoo’s cheek in his palm.

Distantly, Wonwoo was aware of a low rumbling in his chest. He was purring. A tiny part of his consciousness begged for him to come to his senses and pull away. But the voice in his head was so faint, and the comfort Mingyu offered was so alluring, that it was easy to shove it aside. Wonwoo nuzzled his nose into Mingyu’s palm, lips parting as he inhaled. His nose was centimeters from Mingyu’s wrist—a pulse and a scent point. Mmm… Mingyu smelled so good. 

Mingyu slid his thumb over Wonwoo's cheek, soothing. He was crooning softly, pleased. The sound made caused the fire inside Wonwoo to flare. Heat pooled in his gut, sliding between his legs and over his thighs. His trousers felt too tight all of a sudden.

"Oh fuck," Mingyu swore. "Oh fuck, Mr. Jeon." There was a rustling of clothes, displacement of air. Wonwoo cracked an eye open.

Mingyu had moved to sit at the edge of his desk. His legs were spread, allowing Wonwoo to fit in between. He was gazing down at Wonwoo. The blacks of his pupils had exploded to swallow up the chocolate brown of his irises. A blush dusted his cheeks. He was panting, and as Wonwoo's eyes fell to Mingyu's mouth, a pink tongue darted out to wet his lips.

Wonwoo's own mouth had filled with saliva. The air was heavy, rich with the headiness of… Of what?

His half-lidded gaze travelled lower, over Mingyu's chest and belly, stopping at Mingyu's crotch. The front of his trousers were tented obscenely. 

Oh. 

That was what smelled so good. Mingyu was aroused. Wonwoo's realisation of Mingyu's state stirred his own desire.

Wonwoo wiggled in his seat, hips moving in a subtle semi-circle. The motion caused his pants to tug at his erection. That felt good. He did it again. A moan escaped him. His hole was pulsing and clenching, and when he relaxed it, a dribble of slick leaked out.

Above him, Mingyu inhaled sharply.

Wonwoo wanted to do the same. Except he wanted to do it while pressing his nose into Mingyu’s crotch.

"Mr. J-Jeon—" Mingyu stammered. "Are you an omega?"

The question was like being doused in freezing cold water. 

With a gasping inhale, like a drowning man breaking the surface of water, Wonwoo shoved himself away from Mingyu with such force he crashed into the wall behind him. He lurched out of his chair, losing his balance and nearly falling to his hands and knees. He caught himself on a filing cabinet.

_Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god._

He was going into fucking heat. These were symptoms of heat: restlessness, agitation, high temperature, and a desire to be close to an alpha. He hadn't realised because he hadn't been expecting it, and it had been years since his last one. He was going into heat, and he had come within millimeters of crossing a line with his student. 

“Mr. Jeon—” Mingyu reached for him, palms open to steady.

Wonwoo cringed away. “Don’t touch me!”

Mingyu’s froze, arms halfway extended.

Wonwoo’s hands were trembling. His legs were trembling. Every goddamned inch of him was trembling so hard he feared he might shake right out of his skin. 

“Mr. Jeon, I—”

“Please leave,” Wonwoo whispered, voice cracking. He held his arms to his chest, protecting.

Mingyu looked at him helplessly. His pheromones were in turmoil, confused and conflicted, and yet trying to comfort a distressed omega. “I can help—”

“I don’t need your help,” Wonwoo said. “I need you to get out.”

Mingyu made a broken noise. “I can’t leave you.”

Wonwoo squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t bear to look at Mingyu. “If you respect me at all, you’ll leave.” 

For a long, strained moment—nothing. And then Mingyu said quietly, "Okay, Mr. Jeon. I'll go."

Mingyu left, footfalls receding down the hallway, his wondrous scent fading with him. Wonwoo's knees gave out and he collapsed against the filing cabinet. The omega inside him wanted to chase after Mingyu, bury his face into the alpha's chest and never resurface. Mingyu would have welcomed it, he knew. Mingyu had been aroused, seduced by an omega in heat. If Wonwoo asked him, Mingyu would be powerless to say no. 

In the end, Wonwoo's rational side won over, but it was a near thing.

He had to act quickly before the demands of his heat returned with a vengeance. Already, he could feel the urgent need starting to rise. He gathered his belongings and sprayed down the entire room with a scent-blocker that he carried with him at all times. A pathetically horny part of him mourned as Mingyu's scent and the tang of their shared arousal was smothered. As an additional measure, he threw open the windows to air out the classroom.

Belongings clutched tight to his chest, Wonwoo burst through the exit. The double doors slammed against the exterior walls with a metallic bang. A cold autumn wind howled and whipped against his burning body. He fumbled for his car key, ducked inside, and sped home.

  
  
  


Wonwoo had forgotten how uncomfortable, humiliating, and fucking inconvenient heats were.

Like most omegas, he had presented at sixteen years of age. For two years, he endured heats without the comfort of an alpha partner. Few alphas wanted the knobby joints and the compact muscles of a man when the delicate bodies and soft curves of a woman were available; everyone knew that male omegas were for fun, and female omegas were for life. 

When he turned eighteen, he was legally allowed to take inhibitors, and he hadn't looked back since. It made no sense that the drugs had failed now, but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

It took Wonwoo's shaking hand three attempts to jab the correct passcode into his lock. The entire time, he was aware of his omega neighbour's curious and drawn out look as she passed him by, no doubt wondering why a supposed-beta reeked of an omega on the brink of heat. At the end of the hallway, there was a man lingering by the door to the stairwell; he was an alpha who lived on the first floor, and he had been led by his nose to the fourth floor where Wonwoo lived.

The door to his apartment clicked open and Wonwoo hurried inside. As though his body realised it was finally in a safe environment, it entered estrus. Wonwoo gritted his teeth as the first wave of slick slid from his hole, wetting his briefs. His skin had become unbearably hot and itchy, and he shed his clothes onto the floor as he made for his bedroom.

He crawled into bed, shivering when his cool comforters met his burning skin. He fumbled at his bedside drawer, taking out his dildo. Skipped the bottle of lube, which he normally used; his body was producing its own slick in preparation to take an alpha's knot. It pooled in the crevice of his ass, sliding down to coat his inner thighs.

Wonwoo drew his lower lip between his teeth. Made himself comfortable against two stacked pillows. Took his dildo in hand and spread his legs, getting the flats of his feet beneath him. He curled his other arm under his thigh, hiking it up to give himself more access. 

Slowly, he ran the tip of his dildo over his erection, the seam of his balls, and lower still, until he could slip it between his asscheeks. He coated the toy with his natural slick. A shuddering moan escaped him as he traced teasing circles over his rim with the dildo. His hole clenched and fluttered, eager to be filled.

The first press inside had Wonwoo throwing his head back in a groan. His eyelids fluttered shut. It was embarrassing, how easily the length of the toy slid into his wetness. It was as though his body had been expecting something thicker than a slim dildo—a real alpha's knot.

Mingyu's knot.

Wonwoo had seen the alpha's impressive erection straining against his zipper. The musky scent of Mingyu's arousal rose unbidden in Wonwoo's mind, sending his mouth watering afresh. He had been mere seconds from setting his palms on Mingyu's thighs and running his hands up muscled legs until he reached the belt buckle. He had come _this close_ to undoing the zipper and revealing the alpha's cock.

Wonwoo's hips stuttered on his dildo as he thought about what Mingyu's cock might look like. Cut, or uncut? Long, or thick? It didn't matter, as long as it could satiate this hunger swelling inside him.

"No," he whimpered, even as a line of precome blurted from his cock and onto his stomach. He didn't want to think of his student. He tried to redirect his thoughts elsewhere. He closed his eyes, hoping to focus on the sensation alone. A face came to mind anyway, so he tried to think instead about alpha celebrities he found attractive. Somehow, part way through his fantasy, their face turned into that of Mingyu's.

Mingyu had always been eager to please. Raising his hand to offer answers in class, preening when Wonwoo rewarded him with a "well done."

Would Mingyu be eager to please Wonwoo in this regard, too?

God, Wonwoo wanted him. Wished he had pushed Mingyu onto the desk, fished out his cock, and sank onto him. Wonwoo wanted to feel the blood-hot length of Mingyu pulsing against his inner walls and stretching him open. 

And judging by the way Mingyu had looked at him, eyes blown with lust; judging by the way Mingyu had cursed, "Fuck, Mr. Jeon," in that rough and desperate tone, Mingyu had wanted him, too. Mingyu hadn't run away, had he? He had taken a seat at the edge of Wonwoo's desk, had spread his thighs so that Wonwoo could sit between them. 

What was that, if not an invitation?

At the height of his heat, Wonwoo was able to forget all propriety. He allowed himself to imagine all those inadmissible thoughts that had occupied his mind since the first moment he laid eyes on Mingyu. They were thoughts that he had refused to acknowledge and that he had suppressed by sheer force of will. But now these fantasies wrenched orgasm after orgasm out of him.

Maybe instead of rewarding Mingyu with a "well done", Wonwoo could offer something else instead. He thought about falling to his knees on the bathroom floor to suck Mingyu's cock, the way a good omega would please their alpha. How Mingyu would be so lost in the pleasure of Wonwoo's mouth that he couldn't help but thrust his hips forward over and over again, until tears sprung to Wonwoo's eyes and drool spilled over his chin. Maybe he'd finish by spilling down Wonwoo's throat. Or maybe he would pull out at the last second to come on Wonwoo's face, coating Wonwoo's cheeks and glasses with his seed.

He thought about Mingyu forgoing lunch in favour of fitting his mouth over Wonwoo's hole to eat him out instead. Eventually, he would want Mingyu's knot. Would Mingyu make him beg for it? Or would Mingyu croon in that sweet way of his and say, "Yeah, Mr. Jeon. I'll give you anything you want," those honeyed words a stark contrast against the animalistic way he plunged his knot in and out of Wonwoo's hole.

As if he were truly taking Mingyu's knot, a wave of slick flooded from Wonwoo's body.

He thought about Mingyu skipping class so that he could fuck Wonwoo during his prep period. Thought about Mingyu bending him over his desk, shoving his pants down just enough to get his cock inside. How Mingyu would have to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet so that the other classes in session wouldn't hear the sounds of their sex. Wonwoo would spurt ribbons of come across his desk, maybe even getting some of his release on a test that he was supposed to return. Mingyu would continue to fuck him until the bell rang, and students gathered at his door, waiting to be let inside.

Wonwoo's orgasm took him by surprise. With a shocked cry, he came, hips jerking as his orgasm shook through him. He continued to thrust the dildo in and out of him to prolong the sensation. 

Fuck, it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. He wanted Mingyu's knot with such intensity that he sobbed with it. He abandoned his dildo, jamming all four fingers inside him at once, down to the knuckles. A makeshift knot.

"Ah, ah, ah—" Wonwoo cried, toes curling.

The last aftershocks passed through his body. With a huff, he went limp on his bed. His chest heaved up and down with each breath. A brief moment of clarity in a storm of delirium. Shame and arousal roiled in his chest.

"Fuck," Wonwoo swore. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed down on them with the tips of his fingers. Jesus fucking Christ. Had he really just jerked it to thoughts of his student? This was where God pointed a finger at him and smote him with a strike of lightning. It was so wrong.

 _Is it, though?_ an innocently coy part of him questioned.

Wonwoo hadn't hurt anyone with his fantasy. Mingyu didn't have to know; he would never know. Wonwoo had zero intention of sharing this with him. So wasn't Wonwoo allowed to think about whomever he wanted in order to make it through his heat?

Already, a second wave of heat was rising in his body. It swirled in his belly and loins, filling his cock until it stood at attention. The Mingyu in his fantasies was now occupying the office chair in the classroom. Mingyu sat with his cock out. He was stroking himself, smearing with his thumb the pearl of precum that had bubbled from the slit. His eyes smouldered with hunger and lust. He held himself at the base of his cock, gave his erection a little shake to tempt Wonwoo.

And tempted, Wonwoo was.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*´艸`*) (*´艸`*) (*´艸`*)  
> I would love to scream with you about minwon in the comments or on [my tumblr](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/) ♡  
> [bonus crumbs in Mingyu's POV](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/post/643072907198808064/mehissndhcusondjjskwkamf-ive-waited-literally)


	6. December: Part One

Heats surfaced four times a year, once every season. They lasted for a day. Two, at most. Omegas wouldn’t be able to lead normal lives if their cycles interrupted and debilitated them for any longer or with greater frequency. 

Wonwoo took the remainder of the week off, as well as the next. His heat had lasted for four days, as though trying to make up for all the years it had been suppressed. Four days of agony, distress, and insatiable lust. He had nothing to compare it to; it felt like he was starving even as he gorged himself. At some point, the pleasure had ceased, turning into pain. Every orgasm left him gasping and panting, and yet it wasn’t enough. The relief was only temporary.

During the lulls in his heat, his muscles ached where he had contorted to better fuck himself on his dildo. His abused hole gaped and throbbed. An acute loneliness cut through his chest. Minutes later, his hunger rose again in a vicious swell, craving and demanding an alpha that didn’t exist. Without an alpha’s knot or soothing pheromones, there was no reprieve in heat.

Wonwoo cursed himself even more for pushing Mingyu away. Heats were intense, but with an alpha partner, they could also be hours of joyful ecstasy—or so he had heard. With Mingyu’s presence, Wonwoo could have had a heat like that. His heat-addled brain refused to consider the consequences that would follow, instead berating him for turning down companionship.

When the sun rose on the fifth day, a Friday, Wonwoo’s heat had finally dissipated. It looked like a storm had whirled through his apartment. All the cupboards and cabinet doors hung open, their insides raided of food. Pillows and blankets and comforters had been tugged free from the linen closet and piled onto his bed to form a nest.

Wonwoo himself was left as weak and piteous as a newborn kitten. He managed to order himself food—ramyeon, cheese-filled spicy rice cakes with fish cakes and soft boiled eggs, fried chicken, and red bean-filled pastries—instructing the delivery person to ring the doorbell and then leave the food at the door. 

He dragged himself to the bathroom, where he ducked under a steaming hot spray. After, he changed into a soft and worn sweater and sweats. He had lost weight and his sweats hung low in his hips. He tugged the string tight to keep them from slipping down.

It took him two hours to eat all the food he had ordered. His stomach clamped down on nothing. He had a bad habit of keeping his house poorly stocked of food, and he suffered for it during his heat. 

By the end of his meal, he was beginning to nod off. He managed to strip his bed of its filthy clothes and put on new sheets, and then he was crawling beneath a fresh blanket. He fell asleep even before his head hit the pillow.

Wonwoo slept for the next sixteen hours and woke feeling so well-rested that he was groggy with it. He ordered more food, took another shower while waiting for it to arrive, and then enjoyed breakfast at three in the afternoon. Finally, he felt strong enough to clean his apartment.

He threw open all the windows to air out his home. Sprayed the room down with a scent diffuser. He bundled up soiled sheets and stuffed them into the laundry machine. While the washing machine was going, he cleaned, vacuumed, and reorganised his sparse pantry. Made a mental list of all the things he had to restock.

That evening, he opened up his work email and cringed. Thirty-five emails from students, parents, and teachers alike. One email was from Mingyu, sent Saturday morning, stiff with the formality of a student emailing their teacher:

> _Hi Mr. Jeon,_
> 
> _Normally, I would say I hope you’re doing well, but I know you must be feeling sick to take so many days off. I just wanted to check in to see how you were doing. Will you be back soon?_
> 
> _I hope you can get some rest this weekend._
> 
> _Take care,_
> 
> _Mingyu_

Stupid, how that email sent his heart rolling over in his chest, like a puppy eager to bare its belly. He should have deleted the email before he was tempted to respond. Instead, he replied with a quick, _Thank you for your concern, Mingyu. I am doing fine. I plan to be back the week after next week._

He read and answered the rest of his emails as he ate dinner, which was a bowl of beef teriyaki on rice with lots of stir-fried vegetables; Mina would be proud of him. He contacted the substitute teacher that was filling in for him, apologising for not making any lesson plans beyond that first day. He sent some suggested work for the following week, but said that he would catch the kids up when he returned. He dreaded the mountain of work waiting for him when he returned to school.

He spent his days off recuperating. Or at least, trying to. The abrupt heat after years without, and despite taking suppressants, was concerning and he made an appointment to see his doctor. Neither could he seem to relax with the knowledge that he had crossed a line with Mingyu; it was something he would have to address upon his return. To make matters worse, the alpha still popped into his mind throughout the day. Wonwoo felt a lurch of guilt in his gut each time Mingyu crossed his mind. It meant that his attraction couldn’t be blamed on his heat.

_He was worried about you,_ his mind cooed. _Isn’t that sweet? He knew you were in heat, and he was thinking about you._

In all, what should have been a break didn’t feel the slightest bit relaxing.

  
  
  


“Jeon Wonwoo,” the receptionist beckoned for him. “The patient room is ready for you, if you’ll follow me.”

Wonwoo uncrossed his legs and stood, tucking his phone into his coat. The receptionist led him down the hall and gestured to a patient room. Wonwoo thanked her and took a seat inside. It wasn't long before the door opened and Doctor Lim entered.

"Hello, Doctor Lim," Wonwoo said.

"Oh, no need to stand, Wonwoo," she said with a smile, shaking his hand in greeting. She was a beta in her mid-thirties with warm, kind eyes and a plain face. Her black hair was tied back in a low ponytail and she wore a cream turtleneck sweater beneath her lab coat.

Doctor Lim took a seat across from him. "It's been a while since I've seen you, Wonwoo. How are you doing?"

"Um, good?" Wonwoo's voice lifted into a question at the end.

Doctor Lim laughed. "I suppose that isn't the right question to ask if you're here. Tell me what's been bothering you."

Wonwoo adjusted his glasses with a nudge of his finger. “I went into heat last week even though I’ve been on suppressants. My scent blockers failed, too. It was my first heat in six years.”

Doctor Lim winced. Wonwoo guessed she knew what a painful ordeal it must have been, though she didn’t interrupt him.

“I’ve been taking scent blockers, heat and slick suppressants, as well as birth control every day for the past six years. I take my pills with breakfast, and then again with dinner. I’ve never missed a dose. I don’t know what happened, but I definitely don’t want it to happen again.”

“No, I imagine not,” Doctor Lim said. “One second. Let me check your file.” She swiveled in her chair to face the computer. In a few clicks, she had pulled up his patient information. “You’ve been taking these drugs for a while now, so it’s possible that your body is developing a tolerance to them. I gave you a stronger prescription about a year ago, though. I wonder…”

Doctor Lim turned in her chair to face Wonwoo. “Sometimes, certain alpha pheromones can interfere with these drugs. Generally, these pheromones are ones that are compatible with your own.”

Wonwoo stared. “What—like True Mates?”

“True Mates are a myth. There’s no real scientific evidence behind them, and there’s more to a successful bond pair than liking how your mate smells,” Doctor Lim said. “However, it is true that certain individuals respond more readily to certain pheromones. Have you recently come into contact with an alpha you find attractive?”

Mingyu immediately came to mind. Wonwoo’s face reddened, and that must have been response enough for Doctor Lim.

“It’s something to keep in mind moving forward.”

“What can I do then? Increase my dosage?”

Doctor Lim sighed. “I hesitate to increase your dosage again since we did so not too long ago. I understand you have personal reasons for staying on inhibitors for so long, but you really should be cycling. For one thing, it's not good for your long term reproductive health to be on inhibitors for years at a time. You've been lucky that the side effects of these drugs have been short lived, but this will not likely be true with a higher dosage. Plus now it appears there is an external force actively working against your medication. Your body may clear the medication faster, though the side effects will remain."

These were all things that Doctor Lim had told him before. She repeated her warnings every time she prescribed him something stronger.

As if reading his mind, Doctor Lim gave him a crooked smile. "I know you're getting sick of hearing this, but I say this in the interest of your health. There is nothing to be ashamed of, you know, being a male omega. It’s biology. It’s nature."

A flicker of irritation flashed through Wonwoo. As much as he knew the words to be true, and as much as he liked the woman, he couldn't help but feel that Doctor Lim's words came from a position of privilege. She was a beta. How could she understand the deep-rooted yet subtle discrimination that omegas, especially male ones, had to endure each day?

Prejudices against omegas were so quietly insidious that they had become ingrained in daily life. It was easy to turn a blind eye against it, even with all the omega rights movements in recent years.

Male omegas faced even more difficulties. They occupied the rung below female omegas in the social hierarchy. Not quite a man despite possessing a penis, because they were not alpha or or beta. But not quite a woman, either, because while they experienced estrus, their primary sex was male. Male omegas were neither here nor there.

They were passed over for male jobs because they were believed to be too soft and emotional, and because their cycles disrupted their work lives. But they were also passed over for female positions because society believed male omegas lacked the ability to nurture and form social-emotional connections. 

Doctor Lim's voice popped the bubble of anger growing in Wonwoo's chest. "I'm sorry, Wonwoo. What I said was insensitive. It's true that inhibitors can damage your longterm reproductive health, and that increasing your dosage can lead to severe problems in the future, but I was out of line to dismiss your concerns about your omega status."

Wonwoo sighed. This was why he adored this woman. It was difficult to remain mad at her. "I don't know what to do then."

“I’ll assume that revealing your secondary gender is not an option,” Doctor Lim said. “I recommend you cycle your heat suppressant drugs. Six months on, six months off. This means you will experience heats twice a year instead of four times. There will, however, be an adjustment period.”

“An adjustment period?”

“You may experience some hormonal imbalances. Mood swings, difficulties sleeping. You may experience flash-heats,” Doctor Lim explained.

Wonwoo bit down on his lip, considering her words. Flash-heats. They were shorter and less intense heats, usually triggered by strong sexual desire. Not typically something to worry about during the course of a workday. 

“Once your estrus cycle has stabilised, it will be easier to schedule your life around your heats,” Doctor Lim said. “I’m going to keep you on the birth control you’re currently taking. But it will be prudent to start cycling your scent blockers. There’s a new one that arrived in the market since I last saw you. Clinical trials found it to be ninety-eight percent effective, which is three percent more than the blockers you're using right now. Other patients have had a positive experience with it, too. Are you interested?"

“Yes, please.”

“Great.” Doctor Lim's fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed a new prescription for him. "Finish the scent blockers you’re using now, and then you can start this new one. It's called propantheline. I'm going to put you on a half milligram of it."

The printer whirred to life. Doctor Lim grabbed the prescription that came out and handed it to Wonwoo, who took it with a slight bow.

"Thank you very much, Doctor Lim."

“My pleasure. Contact me if you have any questions or concerns, okay?” Doctor Lim stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her trousers. “Oh, and Wonwoo—if you’re concerned about your inhibitors failing, you may want to consider limiting the number of interactions you share with that alpha. If it’s an option, I mean. It’s better to make lifestyle changes when we can, as opposed to taking stronger drugs.” She smiled at him. “That’s from a biological perspective, of course, and not an emotional one.”

  
  
  


Mina poked her head into Wonwoo’s classroom, face lighting up when she saw that he was present. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, bounding into his classroom and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

Wonwoo let out an _oof_ and stumbled back a step when her small body collided with him. He wound an arm around her, patting her back. “Hi, Mina.”

She slithered off him a second later, retreating to put a foot of distance between them. Clasped her hands behind her back. A light blush coloured her cheeks. She cleared her throat and then smiled at him. “You’ve been gone for so long. What happened? Is everything alright?

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo reassured her. “I caught the flu and couldn’t get out of bed for a week. Sorry for not responding to your texts. I could barely remember my own name, let alone put together a coherent sentence.”

Mina’s lips drew together into a soft moue. “You had me really worried, you know. I didn’t know if you were sick or hurt, or if something bad happened to you, or someone in your family.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I would appreciate it if you told me you were alive next time,” Mina said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Wonwoo said.

She cocked her head and squinted at him. “You look like you lost some weight.” She reached out to brush her fingers over his wrist. “Your wrists are so thin.”

“Hi, Mr. Jeon.”

Mingyu’s voice startled them both. Mina quickly withdrew her hand. Wonwoo straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “Oh, hi Mingyu. Um—I didn’t think you had class with me this morning. Did I get the days wrong?”

“No, I don’t have physics today. I just wanted to see if you were back.”

Had Mingyu been checking to see if he was present every morning for the past two weeks? The thought made his chest glow with warmth and he smiled. “Here I am.”

“Yeah. Here you are,” Mingyu said, returning the smile. “I heard you telling Ms. Myoui you had the flu?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Something like that,” Wonwoo stammered. He shot a sidelong glance at Mina, who blinked at him, unaware. Fuck, this was awkward. The lie he had told Mina did not fit so easily into this narrative. Because Mingyu knew, didn’t he? It hadn’t been the flu. Wonwoo had been in heat.

Mina used the momentary break in conversation to say, “I’m gonna slip out. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do this morning. I’ll come bother you later.” 

Wonwoo waved at her.

Mina looked to Mingyu, “Bye, Mingyu. I’ll see you later today.”

“Yeah, bye,” Mingyu said. 

And then they were alone.

Without Mina’s presence as a buffer, Wonwoo found he was unable to meet Mingyu’s eyes. The fantasies that had kept him company during his heat flashed through his mind. He had the terrifying and irrational fear that Mingyu could read his thoughts. Knees feeling suddenly weak, he sat down at his desk. 

Unspoken words hung between them. The air was heavy with it.

Mingyu broke the silence first. “So you were sick. Are you feeling better now?”

Wonwoo swallowed and nodded. “Yes, much.”

“That’s good.” A brief pause, and then, “Did you have someone to look after you?”

Heat rushed to Wonwoo’s face. His cheeks steamed with it. In any other scenario, from any other person, he wouldn’t have thought twice about the question. But when posed by Mingyu, the innocuous question seemed to hold a second meaning.

_Did you have an alpha to look after you while you were in heat?_

“While you were sick,” Mingyu clarified. “I mean, it must have been pretty bad if you had to take two weeks off.”

Was this the game they were playing? Mingyu pretending not to know that Wonwoo had entered heat that day? Or did Mingyu truly not know? That alternative was even worse, because then it meant Mingyu believed Wonwoo had gotten wet because of him, and not because of heat.

The tie around Wonwoo’s neck felt as tight as a noose. He adjusted it, rubbed at his neck. “Ah, no. I live alone. I managed fine, though. Just needed some time to rest.”

Was it his imagination, or had Mingyu exhaled in relief?

“I’m glad you’re back, Mr. Jeon,” Mingyu said. “Everyone missed you.”

Wonwoo saw an opportunity to change the topic and he seized it. “How did things go while I was away? How was the sub?”

“He was fine. He wasn’t a physics teacher, so he just made us read the textbook and showed us videos he found on YouTube. Gravitational energy isn’t that hard.”

That was about what he had expected from the substitute, especially since he hadn’t left behind any lesson plans. “I would agree that gravitational energy is one of the easier units in Physics 12. I’m glad I missed this chapter instead of something like electromagnetism.”

“He was kind of weird, though,” Minyu said with a wrinkle of his nose.

Wonwoo chuckled. “And why was that?”

“I don’t know. He just was. He kept trying to talk to me about the physics behind soccer.”

“It sounds to me like he was trying to make physics more relevant to you. That’s not a bad thing.”

“I guess not. But he spent the whole class talking to me and Seungcheol and Junhui about it, and we couldn’t get any work done,” Mingyu said. “And I think he had a crush on Jihyo because he kept talking about her red hair.”

Wonwoo barely suppressed a laugh. “Oh, poor Jihyo.”

“Yeah, he was a creep,” Mingyu said.

A creep. Wonwoo went silent at that. The substitute was a creep because he was fascinated by Jihyo’s red hair. What did that make Wonwoo, who had leaned into his student’s touch and gotten wet because of it? What did that make Wonwoo, who had spent four days masturbating to fantasies of Mingyu fucking him six ways to Sunday?

“Mr. Jeon? Are you okay?”

Wonwoo sighed. Planted his elbows on his desk and rested his chin on interlaced fingers. Before his courage left him, he said, “Mingyu, I—”

The warning bell blared through the school. Wonwoo didn’t know whether or not to be grateful for that. The sounds of the hallway filtered into the classroom: lockers banging shut, students rushing to their morning class.

“You should get to class now, Mingyu. I don’t want you to be late.”

Mingyu remained where he was. “What were you going to say?”

“We can talk about it later,” Wonwoo said. “Are you able to come see me after school?”

“We can talk about it now. You have a prep block, right?”

“Yes, but you have class. I can’t let you skip class just so we can talk. It’s not that important.” Even though it sort of was.

“It’s fine,” Mingyu said. “We’re just working on a project in class. It doesn’t matter if I’m late.”

Wonwoo felt himself caving under Mingyu’s insistence. Truthfully, he wanted to get the conversation out of the way, too. It had been eating away at him for the past two weeks, and he wasn’t sure he could wait six hours longer when Mingyu was right there and urging him to talk.

“Okay,” Wonwoo said. “I promise not to take up too much of your time.”

“Should I close the door?”

Wonwoo wanted to say yes, but he didn’t want to risk being caught alone with a student behind closed doors. No one would overhear if they spoke quietly; his desk was located in the furthest corner from the door. He shook his head. “It’s fine, leave it open. Um, would you like to take a seat?”

Mingyu grabbed a chair and settled on the same side of the desk, with about a foot of space between them.

For a long moment, Wonwoo struggled to find the right words. He had thought about how he wanted to confront the issue, but now that Mingyu sat before him, his carefully recited speeches had scattered to inaccessible parts of his brain.

Mingyu sat patiently, waiting for him to speak. Wonwoo could feel the alpha's eyes on him, and it only unnerved him more. Wonwoo spent six hours a day, two hundred days out of the year, getting paid to talk to groups of people. Talking came easy to him. Yet at this moment, he couldn't bring himself to say, "Yes, I'm an omega. Keep it a secret. And don't worry, your chastity is safe."

Wonwoo huffed out a laugh to break the building tension. "I'm sorry, Mingyu. I can't seem to figure out the best way to word this."

“It’s okay, Mr. Jeon.”

Wonwoo held his breath in his cheeks, then blew it out in a steady stream. “I suppose I’ll just come out and say it, since I think you already know. I am an omega.”

Mingyu nodded. “I realised that after… After you started going into heat in front of me.”

_Oh my god,_ Wonwoo thought. This boy would be the end of him. Wonwoo wanted to die. He wanted the earth to open up below his feet and swallow him whole. He wanted to sink down to the molten core of the planet and burn to a crisp. Even those extreme temperatures could not compare to the blaze of his cheeks.

"I—uh, I—" Wonwoo stammered. "Yes. After—that. About that, Mingyu, I would appreciate it if we could keep that between ourselves." Jesus, why did he sound like a molester trying to keep the student he touched quiet? He hadn't touched Mingyu, dammit. Hadn't laid a single finger on the alpha. It was _Mingyu_ who had touched _him._ "That I am a male omega, I mean. It's not something I want people to find out."

"Am I the only one who knows?"

"In this school? Yes. If possible, I would like to keep it that way."

"Does Ms. Myoui know?" Mingyu asked.

Wonwoo shook his head. “Like I said, you are the only one who knows.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” Mingyu said. “I haven’t told anyone. I figured it was something you wanted to keep a secret. Otherwise you wouldn’t be taking scent blockers.”

Wonwoo managed a smile of relief. "Thank you, Mingyu. I appreciate that. I'm glad this is something I can trust you with." In truth, he wasn't too sure about that. But if there was one thing he learned in his experiences working with people, it was that people lived up to what was expected of them.

"Of course, Mr. Jeon. You can trust me with anything." Mingyu leaned forward in his seat, arm shifting as though he might reach out to place a hand on Wonwoo's knee. He must have thought better of it, because he curled his fingers into a fist and sat back again.

Wonwoo drew his lips between his teeth and worried at them. There was something else he wanted to talk about: how Mingyu had touched him, and how Wonwoo's body had reacted to it. But was it really necessary? Could he spare himself the embarrassment? After all, asking Mingyu to keep his secondary gender a secret also implied that his heat should be secret. But Mingyu was a teenager, and Wonwoo's experiences as a teacher taught him that teenagers needed everything spelled out for them.

"Also," Wonwoo started, looking down at his lap. "I'm sorry about how I acted with you. It was inappropriate. I would like to blame it on my, um, heat, but I'm old enough to control myself better. I should have controlled myself better. If this is something you want to talk to your counsellor or the principal about, I won't stop you.”

“Won’t you get in trouble if I do talk to someone about it?”

“Yes. Probably,” Wonwoo admitted. “But you shouldn’t let that stop you.”

“Come on, Mr. Jeon. I wouldn’t do that to you…” 

This was the kind of person Mingyu was: someone who put another’s comfort above their own. Wonwoo was lucky that he had entered heat in front of Mingyu. Anyone else, and word would have spread around the school and he might already be packing his bags. “I want you to know that I am very, very sorry. It won't ever happen again."

"You don't have to apologise. I know you couldn't help it."

“You’re kind, but this truly is something I need to apologise for.”

“I didn’t mind, though.”

Wonwoo’s head snapped up. He stared at Mingyu.

Mingyu sat stiff as a board, hands jammed into the pockets of his trousers. The fabric was drawn tight over his clenched fists. There was a slightly embarrassed, but mulish set to his jaw.

“Oh.” Wonwoo’s voice shook. In his chest, his heart beat hummingbird-fast.

“Yeah, so you don’t have to worry. You can be yourself around me.”

“I—Thank you, Mingyu,” Wonwoo said. “That’s all I wanted to talk to you about. Why don’t you get to class, now?”

Mingyu stood and hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. Returned his chair. “Bye, Mr. Jeon. I’ll see you at lunch.”

“See you,” Wonwoo echoed.

Mingyu shut the door behind him with a soft click.

Wonwoo slid his glasses off and gave his face a hard scrub with both hands. That was the most nerve-wracking thing he had done in years.

The conversation couldn’t have gone any better. Mingyu wouldn’t report him. His secondary gender was safe and he wouldn’t lose his job. His relationship with Mingyu wouldn’t change; the alpha would be in his room at lunch, as usual.

_I didn’t mind, though._ The words surfaced in Wonwoo’s thoughts, heavy with implication.

Mingyu didn’t mind that Wonwoo had gone into heat in front of him and had failed to control himself. Where did he draw the line, then?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Mingyu is going to put his pp in Wonwoo soon (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated, and I'm always happy to scream about minwon on my [tumblr](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/). I ALSO HAVE A [TWITTER](https://twitter.com/lillupon) NOW! idk why that site overwhelmed me for so long aslkdfjsgah but I'm doing it now, mom, I'm doing twitter (kinda)! I blab on twitter about svt and my fics, if you're interested.
> 
> bonus crumbs in Mingyu's pov: [one](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/post/643787113379266561/yeyeyeyeyeye-another-update-this-is) [two](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/post/644518295641407488/i-wonder-whats-mingyus-pov-when-he-saw-mina)


	7. December: Part Two

Wonwoo drew an electron. “Which direction is gravity acting in?”

“Downwards,” Jihyo answered.

With the electron as a starting point, Wonwoo drew an arrow pointing downwards and labelled it as Fg—the force of gravity. "If I want the net force acting upon this electron to be zero, which direction should my opposing force be?"

"Upwards."

"Good. We remember that electrons repel one another, right?"

"Uh-huh," Jihyo said with a nod.

"I want this second electron to exert an upwards force on my first electron. Should I place it above, below, to the left, or to the right of my first electron?" Wonwoo tapped each side of the electron with his pencil to help Jihyo visualise the problem.

"Er," Jihyo said, brows furrowed in thought. "The second electron should be placed on the bottom, right? Then it'll push the first electron up and away from it?"

"That's correct. Very good," Wonwoo said. "And just so we're extra sure, tell me why I wouldn't place this second electron above my first electron.

"Because then the repelling force would be in the same direction as gravity."

"And so the net force wouldn't be zero," Wonwoo finished for her. "If gravity and the repelling force are acting in opposite directions, then what should I write instead of the net force?"

With more confidence this time, Jihyo answered, "Force of gravity minus the repelling force."

"Equals?" Wonwoo prompted.

"Zero."

"Good," Wonwoo said with a smile. "And of course, by repelling force, we mean the electric force, as given by Coulomb's Law. Can you continue from here?"

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Jeon!" Jihyo grinned back at him. “I like your watch, by the way.”

Wonwoo glanced at his wrist. His other hand instinctively went to play with the band. It was a heavy stainless steel, with a black dial and crystal hour markers that glimmered when they caught the light. “Thank you. It was a gift.”

“Ooh,” she said. Her smile turned sly. “From a girlfriend? Or maybe a boyfriend?”

“From my mom, actually.”

Jihyo pouted, no doubt disappointed by the boring answer. Not to be fazed, she asked, “Do you have a mate?”

When had students gotten so bold? Back when Wonwoo was in high school, he got nervous just asking his teacher to use the washroom. He wondered if they were like this with their other teachers, or if his young age made it easier to approach personal topics with him. 

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Mingyu had turned his body toward the conversation. He was watching, pencil in hand, the lead tip frozen over his page. Not even bothering to hide that he was eavesdropping. 

“No, I do not,” Wonwoo answered. 

Mingyu, though he sat two rows up, butted his way into the conversation, “Mr. Jeon, are you and Ms. Myoui dating? I always see you two together.”

The entire class went quiet as students strained to hear his answer. While Jihyo’s prying had made him wary, it was Mingyu’s question that had his cheeks prickling with heat. 

“No, we’re not dating. She is a colleague and a good friend. Now turn around and get back to work,” Wonwoo said, shutting down the thread of conversation. 

Mingyu pouted at him, but did as he was told.

Feeling wrong-footed, Wonwoo escaped to the far corner of the room. He exhaled quietly in relief when Minghao put his hand up, requesting help.

Mingyu’s tone had lacked the teasing lilt of Jihyo’s voice. Taken alone, Wonwoo might have been able to pass the question off as innocent curiosity. But four days ago, Mingyu had asked him, _Did you have someone to take care of you?_ Maybe Wonwoo was reading too far into it, but Mingyu didn’t sound like a nosy high school student probing for something to gossip about.

He sounded like an alpha fishing for the relationship status of an omega he was interested in.

But that was ridiculous. Mingyu was dating Momo; the two of them had been in his room during study hall yesterday, sitting with their arms pressed together. Though they only knew each other as teacher and student, Mingyu did not strike Wonwoo as the kind of person to be disloyal.

He was projecting his feelings onto Mingyu, which persisted despite his best efforts to tamp them down. He found himself trying to look for signs that Mingyu was attracted to him, and sometimes, he thought he found them.

Mingyu was fond of him—that much was obvious. Had told Wonwoo before that he was his favourite teacher. Mingyu might even have a crush on him. That was normal; Wonwoo had had tiny crushes on his teachers in the past, as well. But he had never truly considered pursuing a relationship with a teacher. It was likely the same for Mingyu.

So, what did it matter that Mingyu had a crush on him? What did it matter that Mingyu wanted to know whether or not he was taken? Nothing could come out of it. Nothing would come out of it. Going down that road would only lead to madness.

“Okay, thank you. That makes sense. I have one more question,” Minghao said, flipping through the pages of his workbook.

Wonwoo refocused his attention on his student. Resolved to stop thinking about Mingyu. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s take a look.” 

  
  
  


As if determined to upend his life, the following Monday, Mingyu and the topic of relationships came up yet again during lunch.

Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Junhui occupied the back corner of his classroom. Junhui was on his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. Mingyu and Seungcheol were being loud and boisterous, distracting Wonwoo from the novel he was working his way through. 

"Aw, Junhui! Are those croquettes? Did your mom make those?"

Carefully, Junhui answered, "Yes…"

"The curry flavoured ones with onions and ground pork inside?"

"Yes."

"Aw, those are the fucking best. I could eat twenty of those."

They stared at each other for a moment: Junhui's face impassive, Seungcheol cranking up the charm with his big doe eyes.

With a grieved sigh, Junhui used his chopsticks to pick up one of the croquettes, and dropped it into Seungcheol's bowl.

Seungcheol cheered. "Here, you can have some sausages. You like these, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, he scooped sausages that were snipped at one end to resemble the arms of an octopus into Junhui's lunch. 

“Oh, dude.” Seungcheol swiveled in his seat to face Mingyu. His cheek bulged with a mouthful of food as he said, “Do you know what’s up with Momo? She started crying in the middle of biology class this morning.”

Wonwoo’s ears pricked. He had his book open flat in front of him, but none of the sentences registered in his brain. It was much more interested in the boys’ conversation. 

Mingyu covered his mouth with the back of his hand when he spoke. “Really?”

Junhui said, “Yeah, Mr. Hong even let her and Jihyo leave the classroom, and he’s usually so strict about that. He only lets us leave the classroom three times a year to use the washroom.”

“You should have seen Mr. Hong’s face,” Seungcheol told Mingyu. “He looked so shocked. I think he thought he made Momo cry by putting her on the spot with his question.”

“Have you talked to Momo?” Junhui asked.

“Uh, not recently. No,” Mingyu said.

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked. “When’s the last time you two talked?”

Mingyu shrugged. “Probably Friday.”

“Did… Something happen between you two?” Junhui hedged.

“We broke up.”

“What!” Seungcheol gasped. “Woah, woah, woah. Wait a second. You two broke up?”

“Yeah.”

“No! I was rooting for you two,” Seungcheol bemoaned, at the same time Junhui asked, “When did that happen?”

“Friday.”

"Damn," Seungcheol said. "That's probably why she started bawling in class."

"I thought things were going well for you guys," Junhui said.

"It was—"

"Wait," Seungcheol cut in. "I gotta know. Who broke up with who?"

"I broke up with her."

Seungcheol whistled. "Dude… Why? Momo is really fucking pretty. And she's nice. And she really likes your dumb ass, for some reason."

“I don’t know. I didn’t feel the same way anymore, I guess.” Mingyu sounded uncomfortable, his words stilted. “I didn’t want to lead her on. I mean, it’d be shitty of me, right? If I stayed in a relationship with her just because she liked me, even though I didn’t like her anymore. It’s not fair to her. She deserves better than that.”

Junhui nodded. “That makes sense. It would only hurt her more if you drew out the relationship.”

“High school students,” Seungcheol said. “Their love is so fickle.” As if he weren’t a high school student himself.

“Do you even know what ‘fickle’ means?” Junhui asked.

“Asshole!” Seungcheol punched Junhui in the arm.

“That’s not what fickle means,” Junhui said, laughing and cringing away when Seungcheol smacked his arm again. 

Mingyu snorted, using Seungcheol and Junhui’s momentary distraction to spoon rice into his mouth.

“I have to say though, Mingyu, I’m surprised,” Junhui said.

Seungcheol nodded his agreement. “Yeah, I really didn’t see that coming.”

“I mean, I kind of saw it coming. I didn’t think you would actually do it, though,” Junhui said.

“You saw it coming?” Seungcheol asked. “No, you didn’t, stop lying.”

“Yeah, I did,” Junhui said. “See, Mingyu, you can’t tell me I don’t give you enough attention.”

Seungcheol waved Junhui off. “But man, Mingyu, this close to graduation? That’s bad timing, my friend. How is she going to find anyone to go to prom with?”

“What do you mean?” Mingyu asked. “She still has five months left to find someone else to go with.”

"People started choosing their dates last year. Most people already have someone to go with by now," Seungcheol said. Then he added, "Unless you're Junhui."

"I have someone I'm going with, actually."

"What!" Seungcheol and Mingyu exclaimed.

Seungcheol pressed on, "Who? When did that happen? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm telling you right now, aren't I?" Junhui huffed. "And I'm going with Minghao."

"Oohhh…." Seungcheol and Mingyu said together, drawing out the syllable in an obnoxious and teasing way.

Mingyu gave Junhui the thumbs up. "Congrats, dude. You made it. You're in."

"Wow, I didn't actually think you were going to ask him to prom," said Seungcheol.

"Why not? I said I would."

"Yeah, but you've been saying that for months," Seungcheol said. "Kinda sounded like white noise after a while."

"Well, I did. And anyway, don't change the subject. We're talking about Mingyu and Momo right now."

Mingyu groaned. "There isn't much to say. We broke up because my feelings for her changed. There wasn't any drama."

"You weren't an asshole about breaking up with her, were you?" Seungcheol accused.

"What? Do you even know me? Of course not," Mingyu said, indignant. "Break ups hurt enough as it is."

Seungcheol raised both hands in acquiescence. "Just checking."

"Can you guys not tell anyone about this, though?" Mingyu asked.

"After what happened this morning," Junhui said, "I'm pretty sure our entire grade will know that you and Momo broke up by the end of the day."

Mingyu sighed. "Probably. But I don't want people making a big deal of it, anyway."

"You do realise people are going to assume the worst of you since you made Momo cry in class, right?" Junhui pointed out.

"People need to mind their own damn business," Mingyu grumbled.

"Agreed," Seungcheol said. "We won't tell anyone, if that makes you feel better."

The three boys fell quiet after that, returning to their lunches. Wonwoo slurped up the rest of the noodles and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He stared down at his empty bowl, cursing the hopeful lurch in his chest.

Mingyu breaking up with Momo changed nothing. Plus it wasn’t like he had broken up with her because of Wonwoo. As Mingyu had said, feelings just change sometimes. And even if Wonwoo was the reason for their break up, it wasn’t as though he and Mingyu could pursue something. He hated how, like a lovesick teenage omega, that had been his first thought. 

He had a mantra now: _Nothing could come out of it. Nothing would come out of it._ He could daydream all he wanted, but those fantasies could never be realised.

  
  
  


The last week of school before winter break passed by in a blur. Teachers crammed in the remaining few lessons of a unit, as well as project deadlines and tests. Amidst the academics, the school had come alive with Christmas festivities. In between classes, holiday music played through the announcement system. Gold and silver garlands, and Christmas lights and baubles lined the hallways. Classroom doors were wrapped with candy cane and snowflake paper. In the school foyer, an eight-foot tall tree had been set up and decorated. 

At lunch, a senior student dressed up as Santa and offered up his lap for anyone who wanted to take a picture with him. The Santa was _Mingyu_ apparently, which explained why the alpha hadn’t been in his classroom at lunch the past week. Wonwoo refused to think about all the omegas sitting and giggling on Mingyu’s lap. Threw himself headfirst into his work instead, so that he wouldn’t have to work over winter vacation.

There were charity drives and assemblies and before Wonwoo knew it, it was the last day of the school year.

“Bye-bye,” Wonwoo said, waving at each of his students as they left the classroom. “Have a wonderful winter break.”

As soon as the last student exited, Wonwoo blew out a heavy sigh, the weight sliding off his shoulders. After long nights of marking projects and tests, this felt like the first full breath he had taken in days. He sprayed down the whiteboards with solution and wiped them clean. Then, he weaved through the desks, straightening them out. Bended over to pluck candy wrappers from the floor. 

He cleared his desk of papers and folders that had accumulated over the months. Some of these went into his filing cabinets, while others were dumped into the recycling bag. He hummed a jaunty tune as he worked, flitting around the classroom.

“You seem happy.”

Wonwoo whirled around, a smile spreading across his face when he saw that it was Mingyu. Mingyu didn’t have class with him today and hadn’t been in his room at lunch, impersonating Santa one final time. Wonwoo had thought he wouldn’t see Mingyu until next year. 

“Hi,” Wonwoo said, fixing his bangs, which had fallen across his forehead in disarray while he cleaned. “Well, it’s hard to complain when we have the next two weeks off. How was playing Santa?”

Mingyu strolled into the classroom, taking a seat at the edge of a desk. “Pretty boring. I only did it because I owed a friend a favour. I have gym third period, so I had to eat lunch in the six minutes we have between classes. Then I spent all of gym class cramping.” 

“You poor thing,” Wonwoo said with a laugh.

“You should have come taken photos with me.”

 _What? And sit on your lap?_ “I barely even had time to use the washroom during lunch,” Wonwoo said instead. “Busy week, with the testing and all.”

“I’ll bet,” Mingyu said. “Do you have any plans for winter break?”

“I’m going to drive down to the interior and spend Christmas Eve and New Years with my family,” Wonwoo said. “I haven’t seen them since summer.”

“That’ll be nice,” Mingyu said. “Big family?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “Just me, my brother, and my parents. I have a few aunt and uncles who will probably poke their head in on Christmas Day, but that’s about it.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings. Is he younger or older than you?”

“Younger,” Wonwoo said. “Your age, actually.” 

For some reason, it took saying that outloud for it to hit him how young Mingyu truly was. He had changed Donghyun’s diapers and spoon fed him for the first few years of his life. If it were Donghyun who was being pursued by some twenty-three year old, Wonwoo would wedge himself between the two. Hackles raised. Worried that his baby brother had been groomed or would be taken advantage of. 

“I bet you’d make a good older brother.”

Wonwoo huffed with amusement. “I don’t know about that. Donghyun might say otherwise. Anyway, how about you? Do you have anything planned for winter break?”

“My family and I are going to Hawaii,” Mingyu said, making a face.

“Not excited?”

“It stopped being exciting five years ago. We go every year. Sometimes twice a year. My mom and Chaeyoung love it there,” Mingyu said. 

“I hope you have a good time there this year.”

“I’ll try,” Mingyu said wryly. “Want me to bring anything back for you?”

“Ah, no. Thank you, though. I appreciate the offer.”

“Okay.” Mingyu slid off the desk and tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Anyway, I won’t keep you for any longer, Mr. Jeon. I know you probably want to go home. I just wanted to say bye and uh—give you your gift.”

“You got me a gift?” Wonwoo said, heart wobbling in his chest. “Oh, Mingyu…” His voice went soft, as did the rest of him. He approached Mingyu, stopping a foot away. 

Mingyu pulled his hand out of his pocket, and with it, a small rectangular present that was crisply wrapped in navy and silver. He presented the gift to Wonwoo. “I wasn’t sure what to get you. I’m not good at giving gifts—both Seungcheol and Junhui are getting socks for Christmas.”

“Everyone loves socks for Christmas,” Wonwoo assured him. “Especially if they’re fuzzy.”

Mingyu chuckled. “Oh, you like fuzzy socks? I’ll keep that in mind. I didn’t get you socks, unfortunately, but I hope you like your gift anyway.”

Wonwoo clutched the gift to his chest, smiled up at Mingyu. “I do. Thank you very much.”

“How do you know you like it if you haven’t even opened it yet?”

Wonwoo nibbled at his lower lip. “Should I open it now?”

“Yeah. I wanna see.”

Carefully, Wonwoo slipped a nail beneath the folded paper and tugged, the tape peeling off. Even the wrapping paper felt expensive, rich and oiled under his fingertips. The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a dark navy gift box, textured to resemble wood grain. It was stamped with gold foil that read _WATERMAN._

Wonwoo lifted the lid. Nestled in the beige cushion was a rollerball pen. It was the kind of pen that was sold in a luxury gift shop, kept behind the counter and locked in a glass cabinet. The barrel was finished with black lacquer and the rich golden trim created a striking contrast against the matte colour. The nib was also gold, gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights of the classroom. Geometric patterns were etched into the metal. Wonwoo’s eyes followed the sleek lines of the pen, pausing when he reached the pen clip. His initials had been engraved there: _jww._

“Holy shit,” Wonwoo said.

Mingyu laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear, Mr. Jeon. Is that a good ‘holy shit’, or a bad one?”

“Oh wow, Mingyu, this must have been so expensive,” Wonwoo said. 

“It wasn’t bad. I got a good deal on it.”

“I-I don’t know if I can accept this...” 

Mingyu pouted at him, brows drawing together, lips forming a moue. “You don’t like it?”

“Of course I like it!” Wonwoo said quickly. “It’s just… A lot.” It was one thing to receive baked goods or chocolates or mugs or alcohol, but this was on an entirely different level. “Wow, Mingyu. I don’t even know what to say. This is gorgeous.”

It was more than just a beautiful—and expensive—pen. It was that Mingyu had thought of him during this time of year and had decided to buy him a gift. Even had the pen personalised for him. Out of the two hundred students Wonwoo taught, only two others had given him a gift, and if he was honest, that was two more than he had anticipated. 

“So you like it, then?” Mingyu asked. 

“I love it.” He loved it enough that his resolve to keep his distance from Mingyu almost wavered and he almost hugged Mingyu. 

Almost. But not quite. 

Mingyu grinned at him, lopsided. A flash of canines peeked through. “Good. I’m glad.”

Wonwoo dropped his gaze to the pen. “I might just keep this on display on my desk at home. I feel nervous about using it.”

Mingyu laughed softly. “Use it. It comes with a warranty.”

“Oh my god, it comes with a warranty?” Wonwoo said. “I don’t even buy warranty for my electronics.”

“Two years,” Mingyu told him. “I got pen refills for you, too. They’re under the cushion.”

Wonwoo’s head reeled. “Thank you again, Mingyu, really.”

“M-hm,” Mingyu said. 

They fell quiet. Wonwoo kept his eyes downcast as he ran his fingers along the pen. He could feel Mingyu’s gaze on him, heavy with intent. Wonwoo swallowed with a click. 

Mingyu made an effort to see him outside of his scheduled class time. Reassured Wonwoo after he had gone into heat; had said that he didn’t mind. Mingyu had broken up with his girlfriend. Had bought Wonwoo an expensive gift. 

Those kinds of things could give an omega the wrong idea. 

Suddenly finding it hard to breathe, Wonwoo retreated a step. He snapped the gift box shut, the clack of it breaking the spell that had settled over them. 

“I should head out now,” Mingyu said. “Chaeyoung is probably wondering where I am.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo said. “Thank you again, Mingyu. I really love the gift. I hope you have a wonderful break.”

“You too, Mr. Jeon. Try to get some rest over winter break, okay? You work too hard,” Mingyu said, and then departed with a wave.

Wonwoo watched Mingyu go, eyes lingering on the nape of his neck and the broadness of his shoulders. He followed the tapered vee of Mingyu’s torso, down to where his shirt had been tucked in. Mingyu’s thighs, firm with muscle, filled the lines of his trousers. Wonwoo had taken in this sight of Mingyu’s retreating back in a single second, and that was enough to make his mouth go dry. 

Wonwoo’s fingers tightened around the gift box that held the pen. A warm curl of attraction settled low in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves at Momo* bye girl!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (♡˙︶˙♡)
> 
> I post a bunch of AEV bonus scenes on my tumblr. All these snippets can be found under the tag [#aev bonus](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/tagged/aev-bonus). I also cross-post my writing to [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lillupon). Now that I have been using twitter for two weeks, I am pretty much an expert at that site LAUGHING OUT LOUD.


	8. January: Part One

Wonwoo made the three hour drive back home to spend the holidays with his mom, dad, and Donghyun. His days were jam-packed with Christmas preparations and gatherings. There were dinners with relatives and nighttime visits to the Christmas market. He and Donghyun went down to the lake located at the edge of town. It was frozen over this time of year, and families, couples, and friends skated across its icy surface. Afterwards, he and Donghyun enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate, topped with whip cream, marshmallows, and chocolate drizzle. 

Wonwoo glutted himself on food and festivities, keeping his hours and his mind occupied so that he would not think about a certain alpha. For the most part, he was successful. Had even maintained a several-day streak—he wasn’t exactly keeping track—until Donghyun shattered it by asking, “Meet any cute alphas in the city?”

Mingyu’s face immediately came to mind. “No,” Wonwoo said.

“Really? Not even one?”

“I work with a bunch of teenagers, and people that are either old or married,” Wonwoo said. “Where am I supposed to meet an alpha?”

Donghyun shrugged. “Dunno. A coffee shop? A bar? A dating app?”

“I barely have time to cook dinner for myself, much less date.”

Their mom overheard this from the kitchen and called out, “You haven’t been eating dinner?”

Wonwoo welcomed the interruption, even if it meant being scolded and having his eating habits picked apart. He surrendered himself to the admonishment, listening with half an ear. 

Maybe that was his problem: he hadn’t dated anyone in two years. Hadn’t had the company of anyone other than his hand and dildo when he was needy for it. He had been too busy with internships as a research assistant, and then he had been scrambling to complete his honours thesis. After that, he had jumped straight into a degree in secondary physics education. In between the demands of practicum and then moving to a new city, there simply hadn’t been time to meet anyone.

Wonwoo was the kind of person who enjoyed his own company and he knew how to keep himself occupied. He didn’t date for the sake of dating. Didn’t often feel lonely or alone. But perhaps, his attraction to Mingyu was a side effect of a skin starvation that had been germinating far beneath the surface for years.

That thought made him hopeful, because then it meant he could get over this hopeless crush of his if he directed his affections elsewhere. 

On New Year’s Eve, the family gathered around the TV after dinner with an assortment of snacks and sweets. They watched the New Year’s celebrations and fireworks while crunching on chips and spooning green tea mousse cakes into their mouths. Donghyun wasn’t allowed to drink yet, but Wonwoo poured soju for his mom and dad, and they clinked their glasses together before throwing their shots back. A warm glow filled Wonwoo’s chest as he laughed and shared conversation with his parents and younger brother in the living room.

Donghyun babbled about his last year of high school, including upcoming graduations events and worries about a looming adulthood that was barrelling towards him with alarming speed. He fretted about whether or not he would be admitted into his university of choice, and declared that his New Year’s Resolution was to start on homework and projects as soon as they were assigned. 

As Wonwoo listened, he made resolutions of his own: Stop thinking about Mingyu so goddamned much. Exert some discipline as an adult and maintain professional boundaries.

Winter break had been a much needed rest from the grind of work. He had hoped the two weeks of vacation would have been enough to put both physical and emotional distance between them, and that his attraction to the younger alpha would ebb. But that first day back in January, he still felt jittery as he waited for Mingyu to walk through the door. He still found his heart stuttering a step when Mingyu greeted him with a, “Happy new year, Mr. Jeon,” and smiled that sharp, rakish smile of his. 

“Happy new year,” Wonwoo returned. Mingyu was sporting a tan, his skin made bronze under the Hawaiian sun. His hair had been bleached by the sun’s rays, holding tones of rich and dark honey. It was a good look on him. “How was your break?”

“Not bad. Took some surfing lessons and went scuba diving,” Mingyu answered. His lips curved upwards. “Kinda glad to be back, though.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard a student say that,” Wonwoo said with a chuckle. “Why are you glad to be back?”

Mingyu shrugged with one shoulder. “Would you believe me if I said I missed physics?”

Wonwoo laughed. “I see you’re still trying to get bonus marks from me.”

“Still don’t need bonus marks,” Mingyu said, a cocky slant to his mouth. 

Seungcheol came bounding into the classroom then, slinging an arm around Mingyu’s neck and launching into chatter about his break. Mingyu barely had time to say, “Chat later, Mr. Jeon!” before Seungcheol was dragging him away. 

Wonwoo snorted softly, amused, and then busied himself with last-minute preparations for the day.

  
  
  


Despite Wonwoo’s determination to adhere to a strictly professional relationship with Mingyu and limit any opportunities for solitary meetings, he still found himself caving when Mingyu showed up at his door after school on Friday.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon,” Mingyu said. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Wonwoo glanced up from his laptop. “Yes. I’ll be here for about an hour, maybe an hour and a half. I want to get some marking done and plan lessons for the next week so that I can take the weekend off.”

“Oh, in that case, could I work on some homework here?”

“As if I would say no to a student’s request to do homework,” Wonwoo said.

Mingyu laughed at that, closing the door softly behind him. Wonwoo had the brief thought that he should tell Mingyu to leave the door open, but he said nothing.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend, Mr. Jeon?” Mingyu asked. He took a seat at the desk closest to Wonwoo's, shucking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of his chair. He unpacked his belongings.

Wonwoo tapped his chin with a pen. "Just run some errands and then relax, I think. I got a lot of books for Christmas that I haven't had the chance to read yet."

"That's a good way to spend your weekend."

"How about you? Not a lot of students are willing to stay late on a Friday. But I suppose that's what makes you such a good student." That last part slipped out of his mouth. He pressed his lips together. That didn't sound like he was flirting, did it?

Mingyu shrugged. "Parties aren't really my thing. People just go to get drunk, make out, and hook up."

"Oh, jeez," Wonwoo said with a little huff of laughter. High school kids getting drunk and hooking up… He knew it happened, of course, but it wasn't something he thought about.

"Did you go to parties when you were in high school or college?"

Wonwoo raised a brow. "Do I seem like the partying type to you?"

Mingyu tilted his head to the side and took a long look at Wonwoo, as though drinking him in. Mingyu's appraising gaze kindled warmth under Wonwoo’s skin; it prickled at his collar and low in his belly. Time seemed to turn liquid between them, seconds dragging.

Wonwoo broke eye contact first. His throat had gone dry and he swallowed with a click.

"Not really," Mingyu answered.

"What?" Wonwoo said, unable to remember what they were talking about.

"You don't seem like the partying type to me."

Oh, right. That. "I'm not," Wonwoo said. "I've never been to a house party before, actually. Not the kinds of parties you're referring to, at least."

"Not even in college?"

"Not even in college," Wonwoo affirmed. "I was a shy and quiet student, and I didn't have a lot of friends. The friends I did have were studious and not the partying type."

"It's good that you remained focused," Mingyu said. "I hear a lot of stories about college students flunking out because they partied too much."

"It's true," Wonwoo said. "It's hard enough to pass as it is, even if you're not partying."

“So you’ve never been to a party.” Mingyu hummed. He drew his pencil between his teeth to nibble at the eraser-end of it. His lips twitched upwards in a smirk. Mischievous. “But have you ever hooked up with someone?”

Wonwoo coloured immediately. “Mingyu!” he scolded. 

Laughter burst from Mingyu. His eyes scrunched into amused and twinkling crescents. “You’re kinda cute, Mr. Jeon.”

“W-what?”

Mingyu shook his head, chuckling, a shit-eating grin still curling at the edges of his mouth. “Nothing.”

“It’s not appropriate to call your teacher that,” Wonwoo reprimanded. His voice trembled, diminishing the effect of his words. His cheeks burned. Mingyu must be able to see it. That was why Mingyu didn’t wear the embarrassed expression of a chastised student. Of the two of them, Wonwoo was the one who had been ruffled. “Get started on your work, Mingyu.”

“Okay, okay.”

Wonwoo had the strange feeling that he was being indulged by someone much younger than him. Still, Mingyu did as he was told, opening up his textbook and taking out a sheet of paper from his binder.

Wonwoo directed his attention back to his own work. He picked up a stack of quizzes and thumped it against his desk, straightening out the edges. Then, he shuffled around some pages.

Mingyu had called him cute.

That was not normal. Wonwoo couldn’t even give Mingyu the benefit of doubt.

Students didn’t call their teachers cute. Teachers sometimes called their students cute, but it was in a babying sort of way, like how you might think a small child is adorable.

Students, though?

They didn’t call teachers cute, not to their face. Not during casual conversations, where they were talking about parties and hooking up, of all things.

Oh god. Mingyu was flirting with him, wasn’t he?

Wonwoo knew that alphas were bold. He remembered how an alpha student had used their Voice on Mina, and how another alpha had called Jeonghan ‘babe’ and had smacked his ass. But he hadn’t thought he would experience these things himself.

_You’re kinda cute, Mr. Jeon._

Wonwoo’s heart wobbled in his chest as he replayed the words in his head.

God help him, he liked it, being called cute.

It even turned him on, a little.

Wonwoo squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He picked up a pen and compared a student’s quiz to the answer key.

_Have you ever hooked up with someone?_

It wasn’t the kind of question you asked someone you had a professional relationship with. Even Wonwoo’s friends seldom talked about things like that, and Wonwoo had never asked, either. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how audacious a person must be in order to ask their teacher that. 

People only asked questions like that if they were interested in hooking up. It was a question to test the waters.

Wonwoo flipped the quiz over, drawing check marks with a flick of the wrist. He counted up the marks, double checked his calculations, and then wrote the total at the top of the front page.

Mingyu was always seeking out Wonwoo’s attention. 

Mingyu laughed easily around him. Maybe too often, as Wonwoo did not consider himself to be a particularly funny person.

Mingyu had said that he didn’t mind when Wonwoo had gone into heat in the classroom. Had told Wonwoo not to worry, and to be himself. How else was Wonwoo supposed to interpret that, other than: _I don’t mind if you get wet and horny around me._

Then there was the Christmas gift. In his curiosity, Wonwoo had searched up the catalogue of Waterman pens and found the exact one Mingyu had bought him. Two hundred dollars, carelessly spent.

Mingyu looked for opportunities to be alone together, even staying after school on a Friday evening. 

And now: Mingyu had asked him if he had hooked up with anyone, and had called him cute when Wonwoo turned into a flustered mess.

Oh, god.

Mingyu wasn’t just a student with a crush, content to admire from afar.

Mingyu was a student hoping for more.

Wonwoo marked another quiz. Felt himself longing to look at Mingyu. He put an elbow on his desk and laid a hand on his forehead, physically keeping his head down as he continued to mark. But his eyes were drawn to the alpha as if by some magnetic force. 

A quick peek wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Wonwoo risked it. At the same time, Mingyu also looked up from his work. Smiled again, revealing the points of his canines. 

Wonwoo ripped his eyes away, heart thumping in his chest. The heat had returned to his cheeks with a vengeance, and that wasn’t the only part of his body that felt hot. 

The metal legs of the chair screeched across the floor as Mingyu stood, textbook in hand, and walked over to Wonwoo’s side of the desk. There was already a chair there from when Wonwoo had helped a student earlier. Mingyu clasped it by the back, brought it closer to Wonwoo, and then took a seat.

"Can you help me with this question, Mr. Jeon?"

Wonwoo curled a finger beneath his collar and gave it a tug. "Sure," he said, leaning in to take a look at the question Mingyu was referring to.

Wonwoo read the question. It was about series and convergence, a topic that didn't often come up in physics, and so he was rusty with. "Um," he started. "I think there should be a set of tests you can use to check whether a series converges or diverges. I don't remember off the top of my head, though."

"That sounds familiar." Mingyu tucked his pencil into the crease of the book to mark his page while he flipped to the beginning of the chapter. "There's the ratio test, integral test, and comparison test. Do you mean those?"

"Should be. Let me take a look." Wonwoo scanned the page, far too aware of Mingyu's presence at his side. 

While he thumbed through the pages of the textbook, Mingyu had sat back in his seat, posture open and relaxed. Wonwoo could not keep his eyes from flickering to Mingyu’s spread knees. The fabric of Mingyu’s trousers stretched tight over his thighs. Though Wonwoo sat with his legs pressed together, Mingyu took up so much room that their knees bumped. And Wonwoo, who typically found alphas who sat in that obnoxious way repulsive, felt enthralled instead.

Wonwoo let their knees remain touching, ever so slightly, as he said, "It says here that when a series is not geometric, the ratio test will usually work."

Mingyu didn't remember how to identify a geometric series, nor did he understand the intuition behind convergence and divergence. Wonwoo bumbled through an explanation, the concepts unclear and covered in cobwebs in his mind. His task was made even more difficult by the fact that Mingyu was dangerously distracting, leaning in close and smelling so good that it was criminal. Mingyu's scent was that same seductive blend of mint and sage. It was earthy, masculine, mouth-watering, and comforting all at once.

That caused Wonwoo to pause. Scent blockers worked both ways. He shouldn't be able to detect pheromones, and no one should be able to detect his.

And as though this realisation was permission, Wonwoo felt the omega inside him stir in response to the younger alpha. The beginnings of arousal gathered in his gut and slid between his thighs. His mind scattered into a hundred different directions at once.

It was obvious Mingyu wanted him. Wonwoo wanted the alpha, too.

Many of his fantasies had started in this way: him and Mingyu, alone one evening and behind closed doors. Mingyu showing his interest, because Wonwoo could not be the one to make that first step.

Tonight, the line separating him and Mingyu was at its thinnest yet.

Miraculously, some part of Wonwoo remained sober and urged—begged, pleaded—for him to run. 

Doctor Lim’s warning echoed through his mind: _You may experience flash-heats… If you’re concerned about your inhibitors failing, you may want to consider limiting the number of interactions you share with that alpha._

The first time Wonwoo went into heat in front Mingyu could be attributed to bad luck. 

A second time was an invitation.

 _Would that be so bad?_ a sly voice asked, even as the executive systems in his brain worked frantically to rein in his arousal and keep any slick from leaking.

Wonwoo had to leave—now.

He stood abruptly. “I have to go. You can finish the rest on your own, right, Mingyu?” Already he was starting to clear his work area, closing his laptop with a snap and stuffing quiz papers into his bag.

“Ahh, wait, Mr. Jeon,” Mingyu said, scratching down lines of numbers.

Despite Wonwoo’s efforts, his composure was beginning to crack. His heats, which had been suppressed for years, were now able to run free. Mingyu’s scent grew stronger, which meant Wonwoo’s own pheromones were starting to overcome his scent blockers, mesmerised and spurred forth by the alpha scent.

Heat rushed through his body, like it had scant weeks ago. Spreading from the base of his tailbone to twine up his spine and swirl between his legs. Blood roared in his ears, filling his skull with a ringing noise. Everything seemed like it was happening through a haze, to a body that was not his own.

Mingyu’s pencil froze partway through a number. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. Slowly, he turned his head to face Wonwoo. Several microexpressions flashed across Mingyu’s face. First there was confusion, brows drawing together. Followed by realisation. And then his gaze darkened, realisation melding into arousal. A heady musk filled the air between them: an alpha gearing up to fuck a needy omega. 

Suddenly, Wonwoo found it very difficult to remember why he was in a rush to leave the classroom. Mingyu’s scent smelled more tempting than ever, beckoning him closer…

Wonwoo wrenched himself back. Tripped over his feet, then the legs of his chair, sending it rolling. He stumbled back, only to get tangled in a mess of cords. His stomach dropped out beneath him as he fell. In his sluggish state, the motion seemed comically slow. 

Mingyu lunged, catching Wonwoo by the elbow and losing his own balance in the process. Mingyu twisted in mid-air.

Time sped up again as they crashed into a pile on the ground. Mingyu had taken the brunt of the fall. Wonwoo lay on top of him, hands splayed out on Mingyu’s chest, face smashed against a tanned neck and glasses askew. Wonwoo catalogued their position. The entire line of their bodies were pressed together. Legs tangled up. Chest against chest, stomach against stomach. Groin against groin. A strong arm was wrapped around his waist.

Mingyu groaned with pain, and the sound of it went straight to Wonwoo’s lizard brain. “Fuck, that hurt. Are you okay, Mr. Jeon?”

Wonwoo was frozen stiff. His nose was buried in the curve of Mingyu’s neck, but he didn’t dare take a breath. Part of him was convinced that if he stayed still enough, he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the situation. The wire frame of his glasses dug into his face. His heart pounded against his sternum with such vigour that Mingyu must be able to feel it. Of their own accord, his fingers twitched against Mingyu’s chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt. 

“Mr. Jeon?”

So many points of contact. He could only hold his breath for so long, his racing heart demanding oxygen. He inhaled, senses flooded with Mingyu’s alphas pheromones. His cock was starting to fill in his briefs, and he felt an answering nudge: Mingyu’s own growing erection.

An involuntary whimper sounded in Wonwoo’s throat as the first trickle of slick slipped from his hole. Wonwoo’s fingers clutched more tightly at Mingyu’s shirt.

This was bad.

Really fucking bad.

The situation could still be salvaged if he scrambled off Mingyu’s body. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. The pressure on his crotch was too good, and he wanted more. He squeezed his eyes shut. If he didn’t look, maybe he could pretend… 

The arm around him shifted. A hand spread out over his low back and a second hand came to join it.

"It's okay. It's okay…" Mingyu said quietly, voice pitched low to soothe. He smoothed his hands up and down Wonwoo's back, travelling lower and lower, until his hands were gliding over Wonwoo's asscheeks. His thumbs skimmed over the middle seam of Wonwoo's trousers, following the crevice of his ass.

Wonwoo couldn't help himself any longer. He moaned, helpless, as slick spurted from his hole. He could feel wetness filling the trough of his ass, and how he kept on getting wetter and wetter as Mingyu continued to massage his cheeks, forefinger dipping in between to press teasingly at his pulsing hole. He was leaking as much as a faulty faucet. The honey-sweet scent of his slick filled the air, intertwining with the musk of Mingyu's arousal.

“Fuck, Mr. Jeon…” Mingyu groaned, his breath fluttering against Wonwoo’s temple.

Wonwoo rocked his hips, arching back into big hands, and then thrusting down to grind against Mingyu’s erection. He did it again and again, stuttering at first, but with Mingyu’s hands on his ass to guide him, they developed a rhythm. Wonwoo ground down as Mingyu bucked his hips up. Their clothed arousals met and the resulting friction had both of them moaning.

The rational side of him was silent and nowhere to be found. It had been overwhelmed by the pleasure rising inside him. He rutted shamelessly against Mingyu as he chased his orgasm. His pleasure swelled with each thrust, but it did not reach a peak.

The sensation of completeness eluded him. He teetered on the knife-edge of his orgasm, his body taut and shaking.

He was so close.

Wonwoo cried out, both in bliss and frustration.

Because as good as Mingyu's cock felt against him, it would feel even better inside. There was an emptiness that demanded to be filled. This emptiness withheld his pleasure until it was satisfied. His hole clenched in anticipation. His face burned impossibly hotter.

Was he really going to ask for it?

"Mingyu," Wonwoo choked out. "Oh, god, I need—I need—"

No!

No, he couldn't ask for Mingyu’s cock. They had no condom.

They were in a goddamned school, in his classroom.

He couldn’t ask Mingyu to fuck him here.

 _Just the tip,_ a desperate part of him suggested. _Just ask for the tip. It’s just a little. Not real fucking. But it’d make you feel so much better._

Mingyu’s voice was strained when he said, “What is it, Mr. Jeon? Tell me what you need.”

Wonwoo shook his head. He couldn’t, but he was going crazy with it. His skin had drawn tight, thrumming with the fever temperatures of a flash-heat. His orgasm was being held hostage, dangled in front of him so closely that he could taste it.

“It’s okay, Mr. Jeon, you can tell me,” Mingyu said.

Tears squeezed out from beneath Wonwo’s eyelids. “I-I can’t.” This was the line he was choosing to draw.

Beneath him, Mingyu stopped moving. When Wonwoo tried to rock his hips down, fingers dug into his hips and held him in place. His pleasure started to recede, drawing back from the edge.

"Tell me," Mingyu commanded, and Wonwoo barely had the time to be shocked that Mingyu had used his alpha Voice on him, before he was blurting out:

“Fuck me, oh god, please, Mingyu. I need it. I need it—just the tip. Oh, just the tip. Please, please, please—” Wonwoo flushed violently with embarrassment as his desires were yanked forth by Mingyu’s command. 

Mingyu’s hips jerked and he groaned, the sound of it like it had been ripped from deep within his chest. “Oh, fuck, Mr. Jeon. You’re so fucking hot. Yeah, yeah. I’ll give it to you.”

Mingyu rolled them onto their sides. Wonwoo mourned the loss of Mingyu’s hands and body on him. But he knew it would be worth it when Mingyu unbuckled his belt, ripped open his zipper, and pulled out his cock.

Wonwoo, who had been fumbling with his own belt, fell motionless at the sight of it. 

The turgid length of Mingyu’s cock stood at full attention. A thick vein pulsed along the underside of it. The tip was blood-red with arousal, and before Wonwoo’s eyes, a droplet of precome welled up at the slit.

Mingyu closed a fist around his cock. Swiped his thumb over the slit, smearing the precome there. He was breathing hard, and his exhales shuddered as he repeated the caress.

With renewed urgency, Wonwoo shoved both his briefs and trousers down to his ankles. He shivered as cold air brushed across his heated skin. Hurriedly, he pushed himself to his knees and forearms. Ignored how hard and unforgiving the floor was beneath his joints. He spread his knees wide, dropped his chest, and let his pelvis tilt up, forming a lithe curve in his spine.

Presenting.

Behind him, Mingyu’s breath hitched sharply. He exhaled on a groan. “Holy shit, Mr. Jeon… You look so fucking good. Can’t believe you’re presenting for me.”

Goosebumps erupted across Wonwoo’s skin where his slick-drenched ass and thighs met the cool air of the room. There was a rustling of clothes and Mingyu shuffled into place behind him. Wonwoo looked between his spread legs. His cock hung heavy between his legs, drooling a line of precome onto the floor.

Wonwoo tensed as Mingyu set a hand on his asscheek. He made a conscious effort to relax. “Hurry,” he pleaded. He could feel Mingyu’s eyes roving over him, sending prickles of electricity over his skin.

Mingyu didn’t have to be asked twice. He slid his fingers between Wonwoo’s asscheeks, getting his digits slick in the natural lubricant pooling there. He let out a dazed laugh. “I didn’t know omegas could get this wet. It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

The tips of Wonwoo’s ears burned, and since his body had it out for itself, it took this opportunity to release a wave of slick over Mingyu’s hand.

Mingyu purred, pleased. His fingertips prodded at Wonwoo’s hole. Wonwoo held his breath. They were really going to do this. Mingyu was really going to fuck him, here and now. It was so wrong, so dangerous—and that made it all the more exhilarating. 

Wonwoo moaned, long and low, as a single finger breached him. Yes. Yes, this was it. The friction of frotting could not compare to the feeling of being filled up. The digit prodded his inner walls, worked in and out of him. Every time Mingyu withdrew his finger, Wonwoo clamped down on it, not wanting to let go. The next time Mingyu pushed back in, a second finger joined the first.

The squelching noises Wonwoo's body made as Mingyu worked his fingers in and out were absolute filth. They were accompanied by a stream of moans and whimpers that fell from Wonwoo’s mouth as Mingyu twisted his hand in a corkscrew motion and scissored his fingers apart.

"Please," Wonwoo strained out. "I’m ready. Just give me…"

Mingyu shushed him gently. “Just a little more… You’re so tiny here. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit.”

“It’s okay, I can take it,” Wonwoo insisted. He pushed his ass back.

Mingyu could not be convinced. In any other scenario, Wonwoo would be touched. Few alphas were able to resist knotting an omega in heat, especially if the omega was begging for it, like Wonwoo was. But right now, Wonwoo needed Mingyu inside him more than he needed air. Every atom of his being yearned for it. He wanted Mingyu to be less considerate. 

Mingyu withdrew his fingers. Wonwoo had no time to whine with the loss before the head of Mingyu's cock was prodding at his entrance. Slowly, torturously, Mingyu dragged his cock along the crease of Wonwoo's ass, getting himself wet. Wonwoo arms and thighs quivered with the effort of keeping him steady.

Mingyu pressed forward, damningly slow. Despite the preparation, the stretch still made Wonwoo dizzy. 

"Ah, ah, ah," he whimpered as Mingyu crammed the tip inside, millimetre by delicious millimetre.

The head of Mingyu’s cock had barely popped past his rim before the crest of Wonwoo’s pleasure broke and crashed through him. With a shocked cry, he came, cock shooting strings of white onto the ground. His whole body vibrated uncontrollably as his orgasm coursed through him. His arms gave out and he collapsed onto his face, cheek squashing into the linoleum and glasses jamming into his temple.

Distantly, he was aware of Mingyu chuffing above him. The sound was laughing and incredulous. 

Mingyu made to withdraw. Wonwoo clamped down on him, refusing to let him slip free. “Keep going,” he breathed. His cock was still hard despite his release. The throbbing need to be filled had only been slaked, not yet satiated. 

“Are you sure?”

Wonwoo wiggled his hips, trying to fuck himself on Mingyu’s cock to prove just how sure he was.

Mingyu pressed forward. His cock was so much thicker and longer than his three fingers. For a brief second, Wonwoo wondered if he would be able to take it. The stretch of Mingyu penetrating his over-sensitive hole bordered on pleasure-pain. 

Wonwoo whimpered. Fuck, Mingyu was massive. He had looked huge, but not _this_ huge. 

Sweat broke out across his back. Mingyu’s fingers dug into his ass, thumbs spreading his cheeks apart as if to help stretch. Wonwoo’s hole contracted and then released, a flood of slick gushing forth to ease the way for Mingyu’s cock. 

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo whined, voice wobbling.

Mingyu crooned, hands moving to smooth up and down Wonwoo’s heaving flanks. “Almost there…”

Finally, Mingyu bottomed out, pelvis pressing flush against his ass. He could feel Mingyu’s thighs against his hamstrings, vibrating with the effort of holding himself still. 

“Let me know when,” Mingyu gritted out.

Wonwoo’s head spun; he felt like a Thanksgiving turkey, crammed full with stuffing and about to split. He forced himself to breathe around the stretch. The seconds ticked away. Soon, the pain dissipated, leaving behind only a sense of fulfillment. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. It was so good. Better than his own fingers. Far better than the skinny little dildo he kept in his bedside drawer. Mingyu’s cock twitched, hard and heated inside him.

Wonwoo clenched experimentally, moaning as Mingyu’s thick shaft stimulated his prostate. He did it again, a shaky breath escaping him. His eyelids fluttered shut. 

“You can move,” he said.

Mingyu groaned as he withdrew and then slowly pushed back inside. “You feel amazing, Mr. Jeon.” His hands gripped Wonwoo’s waist as he drove forward, pulling Wonwoo onto his cock.

Every time Mingyu slid out of him, he brushed against that pleasure centre inside Wonwoo. Wonwoo couldn’t help the moans that spilled from his lips. It was as though they were forced out of his body in order to make room for Mingyu.

Wonwoo could feel his balls drawing in tight, on the brink of climax yet again, even though it had been mere minutes since his last orgasm. He wasn’t normally this easy, he wanted to tell Mingyu. It was the flash-heat, he wanted to insist, and the fact that Mingyu was fucking him raw, cock plunging in and out, and stirring up his insides in a way that had him shaking.

Mingyu’s thrusts were going erratic. The deep in-and-out slide turned into short, hard thrusts that had Wonwoo’s long and low cries of pleasure stuttering. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Mingyu said.

“Don’t knot me,” Wonwoo managed to say in between thrusts.

Wonwoo’s hole was left empty and gaping as Mingyu pulled free. Wonwoo’s hand went to his cock. He pumped himself as he listened to the younger alpha’s deep and throaty groans, and the sound of hand beating over flesh as Mingyu jerked himself off. With a small cry, Wonwoo came, adding to the mess of come that puddled on the floor. 

Mingyu followed not long after. Wonwoo smelled the scent of Mingyu’s seed before he felt it. It landed on his low back and bare ass in hot ribbons, causing Wonwoo to moan and wiggle.

 _Yes, come on me,_ Wonwoo thought muzzily. _Mark me yours._ He wanted everyone to be able to smell Mingyu’s claim on him—Momo, most of all. 

With a huff, Mingyu collapsed beside him. They lay there together, Mingyu on his back and Wonwoo on his stomach, their chests heaving for breath. Wonwoo turned to face Mingyu, cheek resting on the floor. He ran his eyes over Mingyu’s body, admiring.

Mingyu looked beautiful with his hair mussed. He was flushed and glowing with a light sheen of sweat. His clothes were in disarray. His trousers were open and his cock lay on his belly. It was still half-hard, and Wonwoo knew that it could be coaxed into full hardness with a few touches. 

They exchanged no words. The classroom was quiet, save for the sounds of their panting. Wonwoo drank in the moment, languishing in the glow of his orgasm.

Mingyu threw a forearm over his eyes. He laughed breathlessly. “Holy shit. I can’t believe we just did that.”

Those words broke the spell that had fallen over them.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over Wonwoo.

The gears in his brain turned with a creak: a grinding click-halt, click-halt.

A horrified realisation sank into him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now that Mingyu has broken up with Momo, we ain't wasting no timeeee! lmao minwon literally fuck the chapter following the break up (ง ื▿ ื)ว i have no self-control
> 
> [canon-divergent imagine](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/post/645613774315864064/ive-always-seen-wonwoo-as-a-dense-person-when-it): It takes Mingyu going into rut during the school day for Mingyu and Wonwoo to confront their feelings for each other.  
> [a softer, more romantic take on chapter 8](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/post/645770942346330112/i-imagine-aev-mingyu-would-kiss-the-corner-of-mr)
> 
> Due to real life demands, I will be temporarily closing my Askbox on tumblr. In the meantime, I will be responding to the backlog of Asks I have accumulated. Please feel free to leave a comment below if you would like to share your thoughts on this chapter, squeak about minwon, or discuss AEV. I will still be responding to comments on AO3 and would love to hear from you ♡
> 
> [tumblr](https://lillupon.tumblr.com/)  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/lillupon)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Expect the Unexpected](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028149) by [jchlmwn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jchlmwn/pseuds/jchlmwn)




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